The Search for Victory
by Morena Evensong
Summary: <html><head></head>During the hunt for Hydra, SGC operations are stalled. But the Ori's armies are still coming and Earth isn't any closer to coming up with anything that can stop them. Frustrated, Daniel takes a vacation and accidentally uncovers a clue to what could be an Ancient weapon. Against protocol, against orders, he and his friends set out on a desperate quest to find a way to save Earth.</html>
1. Prologue

Hey there, thanks for checking out this story! When I got sucked into the MCU fandom I was shocked by the lack of Stargate/MCU crossovers out there and the more I watched, the more this story started to gradually form in my head. I'm blurring the timelines of the two cannons a little bit here based on what I have or haven't seen yet:

It takes place some point after season 10 of _Stargate: SG1_, but doesn't include anything that happened in _Ark of Truth_ as I haven't seen it yet. I am currently in the middle of watching _Stargate: Atlantis_ and am nearly done season 3, so any references to SGA will depend on where I am in the show at the time - it will not be during the replicator war though, because I need Sam on Earth for this story. I haven't seen any SGU, so that won't exist in this story at all.

For the Marvel portion of this crossover, I'm staying strictly within cannon of the MCU up until the end of _The Winter Soldier_. I'm also entirely ignoring _Guardians of the Galaxy_, although I am aware the Guardians exist in the same universe as everyone else. Now, while I'm going by MCU cannon, any character history or information that hasn't yet been explained or given as solid fact in the MCU, I'm supplimenting with info from the comics wiki. Likewise, my characterization of the Hulk is influenced by _Earth's Mightiest Heros_ where he's clearly an intelligent rage monster even if I have kept him mostly non-verbal the way he's been so far in the MCU.

Director Phil Coulson and his crew will also be appearing in this story, but the only thing I've taken from season two of_ Agents of Shield_ is their set-up. In other words, what's up with Fitz, Simmons, Ward, ect, what new faces are hanging around the place, and a few other tidbits learned from the first episode of the season. And unless we suddenly learn something cool like Coulson gaining the ability to spontaneously combust things, it'll continue to be entirely AU to season 2.

Warnings: Er, dodgy scifi/comicbook science? Violence... basically anything that happened over the course of either the SG1 or MCU timeline could be mentioned. If you've watched the show, seen the movies, you should know what those triggers are.

And lastly, the obligatory Disclaimer: I own a computer and an imagination. And a coffeemaker. I do not, however, own Stargate or Marvel.

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Somewhere behind him, Hulk heard the buzz of flying army machines. Hulk pushed trees aside as he ran from them, just wanting to get away. Hulk didn't understand what had changed. He remembered Others: the metal man, the bright blue shield man, the woman with long red hair, the flying thunder man and the arrow man. He didn't see them for very long, but he remembered feeling things other than anger when he looked at them. They'd smiled at Hulk. They'd smashed things with Hulk.

Friends, a small voice from deep within Hulk supplied. Friends. Hulk liked the word friends.

He heard a high-pitched whine and ducked as a missile sailed over his head. It hit the ground and exploded, sending dirt and half a splintered tree flying into the air. Hulk caught the broken tree and whirled around, throwing it towards the nearest flying machine. The machine swerved out of the way, but couldn't stop the tree from clipping its tail, sending it spinning. The other machines had to move out of its way.

Hulk turned and ran again, needing to get away. He was angry. He clenched his fists as his body burned up with his anger. He wanted to smash the puny, annoying machines that were hunting him, but somewhere inside him a voice was yelling at him not to stop, to just run. So Hulk ran. He didn't want to make the Little Man sad; Hulk didn't like it when the Little Man inside him was sad. It made Hulk restless, made him want to smash things. And that made the Little Man sadder.

Something caught his attention and Hulk veered to the left. Two missiles sailed into the trees behind him and he heard them explode and tear up another piece of the forest.

The Little Man had been happy for a while and the Hulk had felt less angry. Hulk wasn't sure how much time had passed in that while, but he had felt fear from the Little Man and then sadness. He'd growled from within his darkness, because Hulk could feel but he couldn't see. And then the Little Man had been frightened and desperate and Hulk had felt danger. So Hulk had roared out in anger and opened his eyes to see the flying machines chasing him.

Where had the warm happiness gone? Where were friends?

Hulk was confused. Hulk hated being confused.

Another whine pierced through the air and then Hulk felt fire sear across his back as the impact made him stagger forward. He roared, anger colouring his vision, silencing all the little voices telling him to run, just run. He grabbed a tree and ripped it from the ground, hefting it easily over his shoulder as he turned to face the on-coming machines. There were five of them and Hulk watched as one fired two more missiles. Hulk swung the tree and one of the missiles impacted with it, shattering the wood and sending splinters in all directions. Hulk barely felt the splinters as they peppered his skin. The tree was burning now.

A different machine had flown lower and Hulk heard the sharp rhythm of bullet fire. Stings like a dozen metal bees rained over his arm. He took a step back and growled. Then he threw the burning tree at the flying machine.

He heard shouting and watched as the tree hit the machine across the front. Hulk heard glass shatter and people yell. He grinned. Then he picked up a large rock from the ground and threw it at another machine, aiming for the spinning propeller. The rock hit its target and the propeller slowed, the machine tilting to one side. The machines around it scattered to the sides to avoid it.

Satisfied, Hulk turned and ran.

Up ahead, he saw something sparkling from between the trees. Water. Good, Hulk was thirsty. Maybe he could use it to hide too.

Hulk ran ahead, pushing trees aside and feeling as roots and bushes were crushed beneath his feet. At last he came out of the trees and into a clearing. There was a lake in the centre of it and a small wooden house on the other side – the lake was too small for Hulk to hide in, but the water looked clear. Hulk knelt down at its bank and cupped his hand to bring some to his mouth. The water was cool and refreshing as it poured down his throat. He managed a second mouthful before the flying machines were once again too close.

He turned just in time to watch them appear over top of the trees. Hulk saw smoke come out of the sides of the one on his left and then heard the familiar whine... Hulk threw himself forward, into the water. The lake wasn't deep, but it was deep enough to cover him. He swam forward, letting the water cool him down. He felt the water shudder as missiles flew into it. Then a sharp fire exploded on his shoulder and Hulk screamed, sending waves out across the lake. Hulk grit his teeth and propelled himself to the right, altering his direction, but still moving forward.

It didn't take him long to reach the other side of the lake. There Hulk came crashing out of the water. He turned and roared into the sky, at the two machines hovering in the air above him. He saw the other two had landed and men were pouring out, with their things meant to hurt Hulk. The two machines in the air circled him carefully. He glared up at them and growled.

There was a loud bang and suddenly fire exploded along Hulk's side. He roared in pain and glared at the puny human soldiers on the ground. Behind the big guns, he saw a familiar face staring at him.

"Ross," he growled, angry, so unbelievably angry, at the man for making the Little Man afraid again. Hulk wondered if he'd done anything to friends and that made him angrier.

Then came a second bang, but it didn't hit Hulk. Instead it flew past him.

The wooden house exploded.

Hulk turned to run away from the weapons, but the flying machines were in his way. There was a brief whine and then four points of fire hit Hulk. He staggered back as pain flared up along his torso and left shoulder. Hulk roared, glaring up at the flying machines. They were lower now. Hulk bent his knees and leapt into the air, grabbing one of them by the tail. The second quickly flew away. Small sharp bursts of staccatto fire peppered his shoulders and upper arms, but Hulk didn't let go. He hit the ground still holding the flying machine's tail and tore it off. He threw the bigger part of the machine into the lake and its tail at the guns on the other side.

He turned to run.

"Cassie! Cassie, can you hear me? Cassandra Fraiser don't you dare die on me! Just hold on, I'm on my way!"

Hulk paused and looked to the wooden house. There was a man there now, trying with all his puny strength to lift away chunks of debris. Not far from him, fire burned. Hulk could see him hurrying desperately, but he was small.

Too small.

* * *

><p>What he wouldn't give for his Kevlar vest and gloves right now. It was an odd thing to think when all he could see was debris in front of him, but the wood kept slipping in his hands and he couldn't get a good grip on it. Around him he smelt gunpower and burning wood. He felt heat from the fire. It was spreading towards him. He needed to work faster.<p>

Daniel was used to missions going from milk-run to FUBAR in the blink of an eye. But this wasn't a mission. This was middle of nowhere Minnesota. He'd been gathering herbs and wild mushrooms for stew.

He'd frozen. For long, precious minutes, shock and disbelief had froze him to the spot when he'd heard the distinct, unforgettable sound of missile-fire. He hadn't even registered the strangeness of the roars that followed the explosions at first: it was all so wrong. Scrambling through his pockets, he finally found his binoculars. Helicopters. He saw helicopters above the trees: US military.

They were heading towards the cabin. And he was nearly a mile away.

"Cassie," he whispered, his eyes widening in horror.

Terror finally granted him the ability to move. He dropped the bag of herbs and ran. Years of running full-tilt over uneven terrain made his steps sure as he automatically side-stepped or leaped over obstacles.

He vaguely remembered taking a call from a panicked Cassie, remembered telling her to take the shotgun and get down into the cold cellar. There might've been a panicked call to Jack, telling him to move his elderly ass back to the cabin. He wasn't even sure he'd made sense. He didn't care; nothing else made sense.

This was Minnesota. There weren't any Goa'uld or Ori in Minnesota. It was supposed to be _safe_.

Daniel managed to get another plank loose and pushed it aside. The cold cellar was still far below. He glanced to his left: the fire was spreading. He had to work faster. Couldn't think about the moment the rocket had hit the cabin. Couldn't let his breath leave him like that again; couldn't let himself freeze again. Shock wasn't going to help anyone. Cassie was counting on him.

He pulled another plank loose.

A shadow fell over him. Daniel grabbed for the knife in his belt and swung around. The large green giant the army had been chasing stood above him, looking angry and remarkably unharmed by the missiles Daniel had seen impacting him. The giant saw Daniel's knife and scoffed.

Daniel shrugged and put it back into its holster.

"Yeah, probably wouldn't have helped me against the soldiers armed with rocket launchers either," he muttered under his breath. His eyes slipped towards the flames that were inching closer. "And normally I'd be happy to make friends, but I've got a friend trapped under here so unless you're going to help, you should probably-"

The green giant brushed past him (he looked familiar, Daniel knew he did, but his brain wasn't supplying information past the mental image of Cassie trembling in fear in the dark beneath the destroyed cabin). Daniel turned and watched in amazement as the giant grabbed an armful of debris and tossed it to the side as easily as a pile of leaves. It only took two armfuls for Daniel to see the opening to the cold cellar.

"Cassie!" he called and ran forward.

"Uncle Daniel?" he heard followed by a bought of coughing. Smoke inhalation, his mind supplied. He was going to need oxygen. Hopefully the soldiers had a medic with them. He couldn't remembered what Jack had in his truck's first aid kit.

Daniel slipped on a loose floorboard as he scrambled to get to the opening to the cellar. Cassie wasn't climbing out on her own. That wasn't good. He could barely make out her form when he stared down into the glorified hole in the ground that counted as Jack's cold cellar.

"Cassie, how are you?" he called down. "Can you move?"

He heard a strangled sob and then "Something fell on my leg and my arm hurts... I think. I can't move it. I-I'm cold, I can't..."

Shock. "Hold on, Cassie, I'm coming down."

He didn't dare look at how close the fire had gotten; the heat was beating on his skin enough to remind him of the fires in Sokar's prison. Daniel quickly climbed down the ladder steps into the cellar. He was half-way down when he heard automatic weapon's fire. He grit his teeth.

A staff weapon. He really, really wished he had a staff weapon right now. Or the Odyssey. Actually, he'd prefer the Odyssey: it had medical facilities.

He jumped down the last couple of steps and crouched next to Cassie.

"Uncle Daniel!" she sobbed with relief and held her hand out.

Daniel squeezed it. "We don't have much time, the blast set the cabin on fire. So, I'm sorry, but this won't be gentle."

Cassie took a deep breath and he could see her nod in the darkness. "I understand."

There was a familiar high-pitched squeal from above them. Rocket-launcher, Daniel's mind automatically supplied. There was the blast of an impact and a roar as the earth around them shook. Daniel threw himself over Cassie and felt as some small debris hit his back. He grit his teeth.

"Who are they?" Cassie whispered, fear making her voice shake.

"United States Army," Daniel said bitterly.

She snorted. "Of course it's the army; only the army employs idiots who fire haphazardly on civilian targets."

Daniel maneuvered to the side and slipped an arm around her back as he braced himself. "Okay, on three: one, two, three!" He heard Cassie suppress a scream as she helped him drag her to her feet. Once upright he have her a few seconds to recover.

"Is that air force snobbery I hear?" he asked her as he tried to get look at the injury on her arm – there was something sticking out of it. It wasn't a long something, so he decided to leave it until he could get a better look at it.

She chuckled in-between wheezing breaths. "I come by it honestly."

"I'm sure your mother would be proud." He took a deep breath. "Okay, there's only one way to do this. Grab onto my shoulders with your arms and my hips with your legs and hold on. It's going to hurt, but I'm going to need my arms to climb up that ladder."

It wasn't easy and he was fairly certain Jack would've told him he only managed out of sheer stubbornness. The stair ladder up wasn't very tall, but Cassie was heavy and her hold rigid with fear and pain. He could hear her gasping and whimpering into his ear the entire way up and the closer they got to the top, the worse the air became as smoke from the fire reached them. Daniel ignored the burn in his muscles, ignored the sweat that poured down his brow and into his eyes.

Ignored the roaring and weapon's fire outside.

Why was the giant still there?!

Eventually he dragged them both out into burning heat and thick smoke. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his side as soon as he could, but he couldn't stop. No time to rest, the fire was almost licking at them now. He dragged himself to his knees and put an arm around Cassie.

"C'mon Cassie, we've got to move!"

Cassie cried out in pain as the movements aggravated her wounds, but she grit her teeth and leaned on him. Daniel took as much of her weight as he could as they made their way through the uneven rubble. He nearly stumbled once when the piece of flooring he stepped on broke under his weight, but he regained his footing and continued on. He felt the fire behind him, but didn't dare look back. Only forward, always forward.

They found solid ground and Daniel didn't stop. He hauled them further away from the house, only stopping when they reached the well. It wouldn't provide much cover, but the trees wouldn't be much protection from missiles either. He collapsed onto the ground beside her and panted.

In the background, he heard the sharp staccato of automatic weapon's fire and a furious roar.

"Oh my god, is that _the Hulk_?!" Cassie whispered incredulously, her voice raspy from the smoke.

Daniel looked up to where the green giant was straining against some invisible force. He was standing between two wheeled contraptions with flat panels and some sort of satellite behind them. The Hulk... right, New York, the Chittauri... Daniel had read about that. Once they'd been allowed to know about it – no, there was no point in dwelling on something that didn't matter right now.

"He helped defend New York, didn't he?" Daniel asked instead.

Cassie nodded. "Yeah, he's a hero. One of the Avengers, I thought."

"So why the hell is the army hunting him? No, you know what, I don't actually care why they're hunting him." Suddenly, Daniel was furious. He'd worked with enough military people to know that you didn't just ignore civilians. Daniel himself had risked his life more than once to save civilians caught in the crossfire.

He turned to Cassie and quickly inspected her wounds, using his knife to tear away the fabric of her shirt. "The Hulk helped me get to you. I-I don't think I would've been able to clear it all on my own..." He took a deep breath. Later. "They were shooting rocket launchers at him and instead of running, he stopped and cleared the rubble for me so that I could get to you."

"And they took advantage of that in order to trap him," said Cassie. Daniel looked up from examining her arm and saw the anger he'd thought he heard burning in her eyes.

"Yes."

"Then go." Daniel blinked, surprised. Cassie coughed and then forced a small smile onto her face. "You have to help him, Uncle Daniel. I'll be fine. Go."

Daniel paused, looking back to the wound on her shoulder. There was a wooden shard embedded in her upper arm: it wasn't large, but it looked like it was in deep. An infection waiting to happen, but Daniel knew better than to take it out. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, amazed it was still there, and placed it in her hand.

"Call Jack, make sure they're sending an ambulance," he said. "I'm going to get the first aid kit out of the car."

"Daniel-"

"-Cassie, right now the Hulk is fine. You, however, are bleeding. Besides, what exactly do you figure I'm going to be able to do unarmed right now?"

"According to Uncle Jack, that's never stopped you bef-" A coughing fit interrupted Cassie's words.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back," he told her and ran for his car.

It'd been far enough away from the cabin that it didn't get caught in the explosion, but he was going to have to move it further away from the fire. As he ran to the car, he noticed the fire had completely overwhelmed the space above the cellar. He shivered. He'd come so close to loosing another person.

Somehow, he still had his car keys in his pocket which made opening the trunk easier. The first thing that caught his eye was the large white box in the corner of the trunk. It was supposed to be a surprise for this evening; he'd forgotten to move it into the cold cellar. Too late now. He grabbed the first aid kit and a bottle of water and ran back to Cassie.

He looked back to the Hulk. The soldiers had stopped shooting at him, but he was still trapped between the two... sonic beams? Sam would probably know. There was movement by one of the helicopters and Daniel saw several soldiers hauling out what looked like long metal rods. One of them sparked.

He cursed under his breath just like Skaara had taught him (except Skaara never cursed under his breath unless his father or sister were around).

He knelt next to Cassie trying very hard not to think about car batteries. Or Jaffa pain sticks.

"Daniel? Daniel, what are they doing?"

Apparently, Cassie had noticed them too. Her eyes were wide, her face was pale and she trembling. Dammit, this was going to give her enough nightmares already. She didn't need more nightmares. He wished he could just bundle her up into the car and drive away...

The car. Huh, maybe he did have a weapon after all.

He didn't pause, couldn't afford to, as he routed through the kit for painkillers. Bottle in hand, he took Cassie's hand and shook two pills onto it. He was prone to migraines, so at least these were the good, prescription-only kind of painkillers.

"Swallow," he ordered, opening the bottle of water and placing it next to her.

This part, this was second nature. Disinfectant, cotton swabs, gauze, wait for Cassie to swallow down the pain killers.

"Sorry, this'll probably hurt," he said just before pouring the iodine solution over her wound.

Cassie screamed.

Behind them, the Hulk roared in pain.

Daniel grit his teeth and used a cotton swab to dab at some of the new blood that began to pour from the wound. It took him three seconds to assess and realize he wasn't going to be able to wrap the wound. At least they didn't need to race across any countryside.

"This is the best I'll be able to do until Sam or professional help gets here," he said. Then he met her eyes. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

She nodded. "I-I'll be fine. Go."

He took a deep breath. "Call Jack."

And then he was off, racing towards the car. The Hulk roared again and Daniel let the anger and pain in the sound fuel his own anger. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, no thought for an actual plan. He threw himself into the driver's seat and started the motor.

The wheels screeched as he floored the pedal and turned towards the commotion. He aimed for the farthest one, the one with less soldiers surrounding it, less people to stop him. If anyone tried shooting at the car, they missed.

Daniel didn't. And he didn't take his foot off the gas pedal until the front of his car had hit the strange satellite sonic projector beam thing and knocked it to the side. The airbag burst out from the steering wheel and Daniel pushed it to the side as he scrambled out of the car.

Keep moving, don't stand still, don't make yourself a target.

The Hulk roared. The ground shook. Daniel made it out of the car in time to watch as the Hulk straightened, the second projector thing a pile of smashed rubble at his feet. Daniel grinned.

"Well, that must be pretty satisfying," he said.

The Hulk whirled around to look at him. Slowly, a toothy grin spread across his face. Then he backhanded the soldiers trying to sneak up on him with the metal rods, sending them flying through the air.

Daniel stepped away from the car and wobbled as his head spun. Okay, so maybe he wasn't as unscathed by everything as he'd though. Dammit, he really didn't need his adrenalin to crash just yet. He looked to Cassie and nearly stumbled with relief as he saw a familiar truck pull up next to the well.

A shadow fell over him. This time he didn't reach for his knife. Instead, he looked up to the Hulk and smiled.

"Thank you for helping me save Cassie," he said, his eyes darted to where the soldiers were regrouping, gathering their weapons.

A stern-looking man with a bushy blond mustache was glaring at Daniel. Daniel's eyes narrowed at him. He saw the stars on his lapels: a general, two, maybe three star. Probably didn't expect a civilian to give him trouble. He looked back up to the Hulk.

"We'll take it from here," he said. "You should go." He held his hand out. "I'm Doctor Daniel Jackson. If you're ever around Colorado Springs and need help, come find me."

The Hulk blinked, looking confused. Whatever he would've done in response was lost in the sound of weapon's fire. Daniel automatically ducked down, covering his face with his arm, but the bullets were all aimed at the Hulk. The green giant growled angrily, eyes flashing. A bullet hit the ground just in front of Daniel. That got him moving.

He kept down as he made his way along the side of the car and along the trunk. The trunk. A flash of inspiration hit Daniel and in moments he had the trunk open and was rooting in its depths. He pulled out a canvas bag and eyed his stash of bottled water. There were four left; he grabbed three and threw them into the bottom of the bag. Then he took the white box and shoved it as gently as he could into the bag.

He waited until the gunfire had momentarily ceased. The Hulk roared and Daniel ran out from behind the car. "Hulk!"

The Hulk whirled angrily to Daniel as the man stepped towards him, holding out the canvas bag. It looked so small compared to the Hulk's massive bulk, but it was all Daniel had.

"Here, I don't know how much this'll do, but it's better than nothing." The Hulk frowned and stepped towards Daniel, carefully accepting the bag. Daniel pointed past the cabin. "South-west from here there's some hills and a cave system. It'll be more difficult for them to track you there."

The Hulk looked in the direction Daniel pointed, then looked back to Daniel.

"Th'nk you," he grunted and then took off at a run that shook the ground. Then, with a mighty leap, he jumped over Cassie, Sam and the truck, landing at the treeline. He didn't look back even once before disappearing into the forest.

For several moments, the clearing was silent. Then the general began yelling out orders for pursuit. Daniel pushed himself away from the car. Now the adrenalin was definitely leaving him – he swayed for a moment and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he opened his eyes there was a seething mad general standing less than a step in front of him, glaring with all his years of intimidation and authority behind him.

As if any of that could compare with a goa'uld or their First Prime.

"What did you tell him?" the general demanded. Daniel glanced to his insignia: yup, three star. Pity. It would've been nice if Jack had out-ranked him.

Daniel raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him and crossed his arms. "I thanked him for saving my niece's life."

The man bristled. "You pointed him somewhere! That-that thing is a monster and a danger to others so long as it's loose. It's my job to find it and make sure it's no longer a threat and you had better not try standing in my way."

"Or you'll do what? Court-martial me? Because I'm starting to wonder who the threat here really is. In fact, I seem to be coming back to the point where the Hulk saved my niece's life while you and your men didn't appear to care that there were civilians in the area."

"Son, this is a military operation; we don't have time to watch out for civilians."

Daniel's thin tendrils of patience snapped.

"My name is Doctor Daniel Jackson. I am a high-ranking civilian consultant with the US Air Force and I've worked worked with both the air force, marines and navy. Believe me, I am _fully aware_ of what a military operation entails and SOP is to first of all clear the area of any potential civilian casualties when at all possible. That cabin was hit with a surface weapon which means you were already on the ground when you fired on it. There is no reason why you couldn't have sent one of your men to make sure it was clear – something you should have known was a possibility given that you arrived in helicopters and therefore during your initial assessment of the area would've noticed the car parked near the cabin indicating the presence of people."

The general growled and his hand shot forward, grabbing Daniel by the front of his shirt.

"I don't care who the hell you think you are. You work for the military? Good. That's better than good. I can have you run out faster than you can say 'hallelujah' if you don't tell me where you sent the Hulk right now. I know people outside the military too, important people. Your name, your reputation will be mud by the time I'm done with you."

Daniel snorted. Was he seriously threatening his reputation outside the military?

"Daniel, I see you're making friends as per usual."

Daniel looked to the left and tried not to make his relief to the three-star general in front of him too obvious. One glance was all it took to realize that the clipped tone of voice wasn't just his imagination. Though outwardly calm, Daniel could tell that Jack was splitting mad right now.

"Heya Jack," he said with false cheer. "In my defense, this vacation definitely wasn't my idea."

Jack snorted with amusement, but his eyes bore into the army general. "General Ross, I assume you have a good reason for threatening an important government asset? One that you wouldn't mind repeating to the president and Joint Chief's?"

Daniel felt Ross stiffen. After a moment's pause he let go of Daniel and took a step back. "Who are you?" he asked with narrow, calculating eyes.

"Leuitenant General Jack O'Neill, USAF." Jack's eyes darted to the side and he nodded slightly. "Now, General, I suggest you and your men lay down your weapons and surrender peacefully."

Ross' eyes flashed. "You are in no position to give me orders! This operation is under army jurisdiction."

Which was when SG-3, SG-9 and SG-12 made their presence known by loudly arming their weapons and coming out from their hiding spots in the trees. Ross grit his teeth, but after a few tense minutes, barked the order to surrender. Less than five minutes later, after Jack gave the order to SG-12 to see if they could fish out any survivors from the helicopter in his lake, the medical evac chopper flew in over the treetops.

"So, what was that you gave the big green guy?" Jack asked casually as the two of them made their way back to Cassie and Sam.

"Hm, oh that was supposed to be desert," Daniel answered. "I had intended it to be a surprise."

"What? You gave him our desert?!"

"Jack, he'd just helped save Cassie's life: the least I could do was send him off with some food and water."

"Yeah, but desert?"

"It was all I had, sorry."

A few moments passed in silence as Jack stewed in annoyance.

"Was it pie?"

Daniel rolled his eyes.

* * *

><p>Bruce sipped his coffee, trying to appear as casual, nonchalant as possible while he waited for the waitress to bring him his food. It was yet another out-of-the-way diner in the middle of nowhere that looked about as old and lifeless as most of its patrons. This one was clean at least, even if the greenery surrounding him was obviously plastic and the burgundy faux-leather seats were faded, the material cracked in quite a few visible places. There were scratch marks on the wooden table he was seated at that Bruce wasn't even going to try and identify. The place smelt of bacon grease and stale cigarette smoke despite the no-smoking sign just inside the entrance.<p>

He didn't look up when the bell above the door jingled.

Someone entered the diner with light, confident steps accompanied with the slight creek of leather. In a place where workboots seemed to be the continual, undying trend, that was odd. Bruce wasn't even surprised when the newcomer slid into the booth across from him.

Bruce sighed and looked up at the grinning face of his companion.

"You are a difficult man to track down, Brusselsprout," said Tony, his designer sunglasses, charcoal, impeccably tailored suit, and bright red silk tie looking about as inconspicuous as a golden retriever at a cat show.

"That was the idea yes," Bruce replied. "And yet you managed, which means I clearly wasn't doing a good enough job of it."

"Oh trust me it wasn't you, it was totally me. And JARVIS. If I hadn't had JARVIS scouring everything I could think of I wouldn't have managed it. When you go off-grid you sure do it in style." He looked around. "Or lack of. You know, I think this place might actually be older than Capsicle."

Bruce leveled an even look at Tony and resisted the urge to sigh. "Tony, after SHIELD fell apart, the deals Fury had in place to protect me did too. Which means Ross is free to come after me and he will bury anyone who tries to stand in his way and protect me, including Stark Industries, and you have too many people, _families_, depending on you to risk playing his game."

He took a deep breath to calm himself. His ever-simmering anger was controlled, but closer to erupting than ever these days. "We've been through all this, you said you understood. So why are you here?"

There was glimmer in Tony's eyes that Bruce wasn't entirely sure he trusted. It was part mischievous, part malicious and a whole lot of amused. That didn't bode well for someone. Tony reached into his jacket and pulled out a Starkpad. He typed on it while he spoke.

"Seems the Hulk managed to make a friend out in Minnesota."

"A friend in Minnesota..." Yes, Bruce remembered waking up in Minnesota. It had been rather memorable. "Is that where I got the chocolate cake from?"

Tony paused. Blinked. Looked up. "Chocolate cake?"

"Uh, yes, I woke up in a large cave in the middle of the forest. I could remember Ross finding me and then... well, nothing. And sitting next to me there was a canvas bag from the Denver Museum of Nature and Science with three bottles of water and a giant chocolate cake."

"Was it good chocolate cake?"

"Oh excellent, one of the best I've ever had. Moist, with a chocolate mocha mousse filling and dark chocolate ganache: it was exquisite. Also not something I would've expected to find myself with in the middle of a forest."

"Well, as thank-you-for-saving-my-deceased-friend's-adopted-daughter presents go, that's not bad."

"What?"

"Yup, Lieutenant General – sorry, Brigadier General – Ross reeeaally screwed up this time."

"Brigadier General– Ross was demoted?!" Bruce took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He liked Tony most of the time, he really did, but sometimes the man could be positively infuriating. "Tony, start from the beginning. What happened exactly?"

Tony smiled, looking over his glasses at Bruce. "Ross blew up an air force general's cabin while his adopted sort-of niece was inside. Then Hulk lost his chance to escape in order to clear debris away so that a close friend of said general could rescue her. At no point during this whole thing did Ross do anything to help, or order anyone else to help. I mention this because it's important, kept getting repeated at his hearing."

Tony turned his tablet around to face Bruce. It showed a picture of a man: sun-bleached hair, tanned skin, blue eyes, thick glasses and a pleasant, though slightly shy smile. He didn't exactly look familiar, but when Bruce looked at the face he felt...

"Picture's about ten years old, but this is... uh, Bruce?"

Bruce looked up slowly. Odd, it seemed to take more effort than it should to move his head. He blinked at Tony's wide-eyed expression. He saw him clearly, but it felt as though he was seeing him clearly twice. Tony's hand shot out and fumbled with the napkin holder. The frantic look in his friend's eyes had him glancing at the shiny silver side Tony and turned to face him.

Green eyes.

His reflection was distorted, but the bright green eyes staring back at him were perfectly clear. Bruce's eyes widened and then he closed them, taking several deep calming breaths as he pushed the Other Guy back, trying not to think of how terrifying it was that the Hulk had managed to sneak up on him like that. Bruce always felt the Other Guy when he came out.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to the smell of food being set before him and the sounds of Tony charming the elderly waitress and her bubble-gum pink hair. After she'd left, Tony's eyes became concerned.

"Everything alright there, Big Guy?"

Bruce nodded. "Yes, I don't really know what that was about to be honest. I didn't even notice the Other Guy coming out. And he didn't feel particularly angry the way he usually does... although he has felt closer to the surface ever since I left New York... Maybe he simply recognized Daniel?"

There was a pause as Bruce picked up his utensils (he was hungry, after all). "Uh, Bruce? You _do_ realize I never told you the guy's name was Daniel?"

Bruce froze and swallowed. "_Is_ his name Daniel?"

"Uh, well, yeah: Doctor Daniel Jackson, a civilian consultant for the US Air Force. And an important one at that. As in, the guy knew exactly which hoops to jump through and which people to file his complaint against Ross with. From what I've been able to figure out he works for some sort of classified project at Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs as a language specialist. Three days after this happened, he and his buddy – as in the three-star general whose cabin Ross blew up – were up in arms over this. Then the Russian and Chinese ambassadors somehow got involved and to top it all off, the President apparently loves the guy. Ross didn't stand a chance. I mean, it's not a court-martial, but considering how untouchable the guy usually is, it's way more than a slap on the wrist."

Bruce smiled. It felt like a long time since he'd had reason to smile. "And the Hulkbusters?"

"Disbanded for good." Tony grinned. "I'd say Big Green did pretty good for himself. Come back to New York with me, I'll show you the full report. No, actually, scratch that. I have a better idea. We can make popcorn and watch the hacked feed of the hearing itself. Seriously, it was brilliant. Jackson was brilliant, talked circles around Ross. And he did it without pissing off half the room like I usually do. It was like a cautionary tale: never start a verbal argument with a linguist. I was actually a little bit in awe."

Bruce's smile widened. "I think that sounds like a great idea, Tony. Thank you."

"For once, it's not me you have to thank."

* * *

><p>Hope that caught your interest in this story. It is all planned out, but I will be writing it as I go along. The story is divided into four, three-part Acts with three interludes in between. I plan to post each Act at once, which means you'll likely have no update for a while and then the three parts in one go or at least very close together. It's a little different than how I usually do things, but I want to give it a try and see how it works. Having said that, I am about half-way done Act I so you should have that relatively soon.<p> 


	2. Act I, pt i

Thank you so much for the reviews/favourites for the prologue! I'm happy to see there are people out there wanting to read this. :) Sorry for the wait, parts 2 and 3 grew way beyond my expectation, but I hate rushing beginnings because I believe it's crucially important to set a story up properly. Anyway, part 2 might not be up until Friday due to its ridiculous length (20 pages... no, I don't know how that happened either) and my work schedule.

For any of you, who might read the prologue before I edited the author's notes, this story will also cross over with "Agents of SHEILD", but there won't be any spoilers for anything past the first episode of season 2. I won't be dealing with their main plot at all, mostly with characters and the aftermath of season 1.

* * *

><p>THREADS<p>

No one took any notice of her as she walked through the halls: long blonde hair tied into a perfect tight bun that fit just beneath her hat, minimal make-up (enough to accentuate, not enough to be noticeable), air force uniform with a gold leaf on her shoulder completed with a regulation-length pencil skirt, sheer nylons and sensible one and a half inch heels. She walked with her head held high, confidently and with the regular gait of a soldier, but quiet – a seasoned soldier would probably take one look and guess special ops. They wouldn't be too far off the mark either.

That was image the Black Widow carefully presented to those she passed by in the halls of the Pentagon. However, it was what they didn't see that was important.

In her left hand she held a briefcase full of reports that, while real enough and probably important to _someone_, were of no actual significance to her mission and there was certainly no one waiting for them inside this building. The sleeves of her uniform jacket were just long enough to cover the widow's bites she wore underneath. The last button could be also be easily torn off and act as a short-distance surveillance device. Her eyeglasses contained a hidden camera and communicator – it didn't have much of a range, but it didn't need to.

Her mark was a General Markham. Or rather, his office was. Hydra hadn't lost all their military backing, they had evidence of that, but they needed to figure out who those backers were. Their only potential ally, General Talbot, was treating all former SHIELD agents as the enemy, including her, despite having been one of the people to expose the threat in the first place.

Oh well, her methods were more interesting anyway.

Then she heard voices coming from a door on her right. Loud voices. An argument? They were muffled behind a door, but the emotions were obvious. The word 'Hydra' had Natasha tripping over nothing in particular – oops clumsy moment – and then pausing as she checked the heel of her shoe, nudging it as though to make sure it hadn't come loose. Just in case someone was watching the cameras. Meanwhile, she ran her other hand over the last button, pressing it lightly to turn on the recording.

"-until this Hydra mess is sorted out!"

"Jack, I know Hydra's a problem! But you and I both know that it's not the biggest problem we have right now. The SGC has obligations to our allies and this is breaking those obligations!"

"It doesn't matter! Orders are orders, Daniel, you've been working for the Air Force long enough to know that! Everything stays grounded until Hydra is rooted out completely."

"Hydra won't matter if the Ori get this far!"

There were a few moments of silence. Natasha let go of her shoe. She straightened her blazer, running her hands over the front of it, tearing off the last button with the flick of a finger and letting it fall to the ground. She adjusted her glasses as she continued down the hallway, activating the nearly-invisible listening device in her ear.

"-still have time-"

"No Jack, we don't! According to the our latest intell, they're planning a large-scale assault and they're planning it soon. And right now, we're in no shape to fight back. Sam's working on her idea, but she's not sure she can make it viable quickly enough. The chair-"

"Enough! Daniel, I know exactly where we stand with this. I've seen every single, dismal report-"

"Yes, but have you actually read them?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I have. For once. And a dyson vacuum doesn't suck this much, but I'm under orders just as much as you are. Do you think I haven't fought it?"

A sigh. "I know, Jack, but... Is there anything I can do? I know I'm not exactly the Joint Chiefs' greatest friend right now after that whole Hulk thing, but what if I talked to them? I could go in front of the IOA, the Pentagon, anyone. I'll do anything. We need to do something. It's not just... morale is horrible at the SGC. It was bad after New York, but now? Now it's worse."

"Look, I'll talk to Hammond and see what he says."

"Okay. I'm actually meeting him for dinner tomorrow so I'll bring it up then."

"Still going to New York next week?"

A deep breath. "Yeah. I-I have to. Cassie's going to fly up to spend the weekend with me. We'll go to the museum together on Friday."

"Good. That's... good. Wish I could go too, but well the president wants me here in case they uncover Hydra ties somewhere. Or something. Don't worry, the SGC has good people; they'll pull through."

"No, they _have_ pulled through. They've done amazing things. They should've been allowed to continue to do amazing things – the things they trained for – instead of getting sidelined in the name of maintaining secrecy. And right now, they're angry, betrayed, frustrated. If the SGC were a ship, I'd call it the Bounty."

"Great. Well, at least I'll know who to blame if that mutiny ever happens. Hope you at least get yourself an eyepatch and a parrot. Or would that be a camel, since it's you?"

"You're hilarious, Jack."

The conversation continued as Natasha slipped into General Markham's office, but not for long. The two men left for lunch together just as she was logging into Markham's computer. On her way out, she picked up the dropped button. No one paid her anymore attention as she was leaving than they had when she'd arrived. Mission accomplished.

She walked down the steps from the Pentagon and hailed a cab, asking it to take her to a little Italian restaurant she knew of. It wasn't far and less than ten minutes later, she was paying the cabbie and getting out at her destination. Once out of the cab, she made a show of checking her watch, looking around and then checking her cellphone messages until the cab had driven away. Only then did she walk under the restaurant's canopy and used its shadow to slip into the alley beside it.

The backpack she'd hidden there last night was still stuffed behind a stack of plywood. It took her a matter of minutes to pull her hair out of its bun and clip on a bright pink hair streak, slip in a fake nose ring and change her blazer, pencil skirt and sensible heels for a Washington U sweatshirt, grungy, torn jeans and converse sneakers. She stuffed the uniform into the backpack, along with the glasses and hefted it over her shoulder. Then she walked out the other side of the alley, slouching slightly as she walked to the busstop on the corner.

Two minutes later, she boarded a city bus.

An hour and forty-three minutes after she'd walked into the Pentagon, the Black Widow was sitting in front of a Starbucks with a veritable tub of coffee in front of her as she used her tablet to tap into their wifi.

A few minutes later a purple nike gym bag was thrown onto the ground next to her backpack. "Hey long time no see," said a familiar voice.

Natasha looked up and smiled in surprise at the blond man standing in front of her table. "Oh my god, it's good to see you!" she exclaimed with a bubbly smile and stood to hug the newcomer. "How's it going?"

"Not bad, nothing to write home about, but you know," he replied smoothly, his shrug a bit stiff (probably due to the kevlar vest underneath the black t-shirt and leather jacket). His jeans weren't quite as grungy as hers, but they had a well-worn look to them.

In other words, she hadn't been followed.

She gestured to the other chair. "Have a seat."

"Hang on, let me get a coffee first."

While Natasha waited for Clint to get himself coffee and a sandwich (he'd been staking out the Pentagon since early this morning in case she needed back up so was probably quite hungry), she casually scanned the street for anything suspicious.

"So, how did things go on your end?" Clint asked after he'd sat down with coffee and a ham and swiss sandwich.

Natasha shrugged. "I have the information, but from what I've seen so far, I think Markham's a bust. No idea how he managed to make general, but it wasn't Hydra."

"Damn, well one name crossed off the list, I guess."

"Hm. I _did_, however, come across something else that was interesting."

"Oh?"

Natasha dug into the front pocket of her backpack and pulled out an mp3 player. She pretended to fiddle with it for a few moments, while she slipped the button recorder into a slot at the bottom. She handed it over to Clint, who took it and immediately put the headphones on and began. She watched his reactions while she watched their surroundings out of the corner of her eye.

When the conversation finished, Clint stopped the playback and took off the headphones. He looked thoughtful while Natasha put them back into her bag.

"You're definitely right," he finally said when she was done. "That was interesting. I gotta say, something that's potentially a bigger threat than Hydra doesn't sound good. Also, can't say I've ever heard of the military using the acronym SGC... could stand for anything."

She nodded. "Same as IOA."

"International something something, or maybe Internal... 'A' cold stand for 'association' or 'administration' maybe?"

"Maybe."

"Do you know who either of them are?"

"The plaque on the office door said Leutenent General Jack O'Neill."

"And this Daniel guy?"

"We have just under a week to figure it out."

Clint's eyebrows rose. "Does this mean we're going to New York?"

"Unless you have something better to do?"

"Nope."

* * *

><p>"Mac says everything's working fine as far as he can see, and Trip has swept it for every type of surveillance devices they could think of and then some," May continued.<p>

Coulson nodded thoughtfully. "And Skye tells me it's clear of any sort of radio signals."

"Which means...?" May raised an eyebrow at him.

The corners of Coulson's mouth twitched slightly. "Which means we have ourselves a quinjet."

"But at what cost?"

Coulson took a deep breath, his face sliding back into its habitual neutral expression. "At a cost the agents involved were willing to pay. That all of us are willing to pay."

"Was it worth it?"

"Yes. Or rather, we'll have to make it worth it. That's our job now; to make sure that every person who sacrifices their lives... any part of themselves for SHIELD doesn't die in vain."

May nodded, her posture relaxing slightly even as her expression stayed just as severe. "I had to ask."

Coulson nodded. "I know. You wouldn't be much of a second if you didn't." He took a deep breath and adjusted his tie. "Well, shall we go take a look at what Skye has for us?"

May inclined her head and stepped aside. "After you," she said with a slight smirk.

Downstairs in the main room, they found Skye sitting crosslegged on top of the large conference table, furiously typing. She looked up when she heard them coming down the stairs and smiled. The others were sprawled around the room in various states of relaxation, Lance and Mac with their usual beers in hand. Coulson nearly rolled his eyes at their poorly-hidden attempts to appear uninterested in Skye's report.

"Heya boss man, that didn't take you nearly as long as I thought it would," Skye called to him.

"Does that mean you're not ready to present your findings?" he asked.

"Wouldn't have called you if I wasn't."

"Good, then what do you have?"

Skye bit her lip and hesitated for a moment. "Okay, so before I start I should probably mention that I'm not actually sure what I've found. Suspicious, super-secretive: yes, definitely. Evil and affiliated with Hydra: maybe, maybe not."

"Why don't you start from the beginning, Skye," May prompted her.

"And the rest of you might as well stop pretending you're not listening to every word and pull up closer," said Coulson.

Skye waited for the others to come in closer before bringing her research up onto the projector.

"Okay, so as you all know I've been scouring any and all military communications, databases, reports, ecetera for any evidence of Hydra activity. Well, I came across a couple of references for something called Project Blue Book, which you know, sounds totally innocuous."

"Which means it's probably anything but," Lance added.

Skye's lips quirked. "Exactly. Anyway, I did some digging and saw it referred to in a few other places – sometimes also called the SGC. And this is where this whole thing gets really weird and confusing." She brought up a few other files, opened the reports for them to see. "Because the more I read about this project, the less I understand. It's almost like it's written in code and you need a cipher or maybe a legend to understand it. Like here-" She highlighted a section of the text. "-it's referring to something called 'naquadah'. I have no idea what that is. A few of the reports mention mines so I guess that means it's a mineral or a metal or rock or something-"

"Could be a code word for 'diamond' or 'gold'," May suggested.

Skye nodded. "That's sort of what I'm thinking. And that's one example. A lot of the reports are like that. Or here they're talking about the 'people from the Land of Light', also refered to as P3X-797."

"I see what you mean," said Coulson, his eyes skimming what he could see of the reports on the projection screen. "It's like they're written specifically for people who know what's going on. Or who possess the cipher to decode it with. There were a few operations SHIELD handled that way."

"Really?" Trip asked.

Coulson smiled thinly. "There weren't many, but some yes. It's useful for misdirecting people who go snooping where they shouldn't."

"Yeah, well, as the person doing the snooping here, it's damn frustrating," said Skye. "Anyway, I decided to try it from a different angle and from what I've managed to figure out, whatever this Project Blue Book is, it's got ties to Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs."

May raised an eyebrow in surprise. "The air force base?"

"NORAD?" Trip said at almost the same time. "This is affiliated with NORAD?!"

Skye paused. "Uh, same complex as NORAD, but I didn't find any evidence to suggest they were in any way connected other than sharing space."

"I think there was supposed to be an old missile silo underneath NORAD," said Coulson thoughtfully. "They could be using that space for the project."

"That... would make a lot of sense actually," said Skye. "'Cause this Project Blue Book/SGC thing? It gets weirder."

"Great," said Lance. "I just love it when the weird things get weirder."

Skye brought up a few more reports. "I hacked my way in through government channels and found a few funding reports." She brought them up. "Whatever's going on down there has been eating money; like huge chunks of the military and Department of Defense's budget has been going towards this thing."

Trip whistled in awe. "Jesus, girl, this thing's gotta be big for the government to pour that much money into it. What is this, research? Weapon's development?"

"I have no idea, but the number of civilians associated with it is ridiculous – and super random. I found a list of people from medical experts and biologists to physicists, engineers and even a whole bunch of archaeologists and linguists. Also, oddly enough, a handful of diplomats."

Coulson blinked. "That is an odd mixture. Any clues at all what they're doing down there?"

Skye shook her head. "They're building or developing something that's for sure. Something that's taking _a lot_ of power. Here, check out the power drain from this place."

"Well, it definitely looks like something that deserves a closer look," said May carefully. "Skye, do you have a possible in for us?"

Skye grinned. "Now that is a question I can answer." She closed the document windows on the projector and replaced them with a personalle file, complete with ID photo. "Meet Doctor Daniel Jackson, double PhD in archaeology and linguistics and civilian consultant with the SGC. Was hired on to the project eleven years ago and has been with it ever since with three note-worthy gaps in his record."

"Gaps?" Colson asked. "What sort of gaps?"

Skye's grin widened. "He was dead."

"He was dead," Colson dead-panned back at her.

"Say what?" said Trip. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Skye. "According to his record, Doctor Jackson has been declared dead not once, not twice, but _three times_."

"Guess you're not so special anymore, Director Coulson," Lance drawled.

"I suppose not," said Coulson with a thoughtful frown. "I know everyone jokes about so-called 'military intelligence', but that's a bit much."

"That's what I thought," Skye agreed. She winced slightly. "Unfortunately his file is heavily redacted and _really_ well protected. I had to pull back when I realized I was about to get caught in a tracer program, so I don't really have any details... But, I thought I recognized the name, so I did a basic google search."

Skye's fingers flew over the keyboard and a few seconds later the projection screen showed a webpage. It was simple, obviously put together by an amateur. May's eyebrows raised at it in surprise. Coulson blinked.

"He's a conspiracy theorist?" he asked.

Skye shook her head. "Not him personally, but his work is used by conspiracy theorists. As far as I can tell he doesn't personally have anything to do with any of the sites I found and only a few had any relevant information about him – I think, like, maybe one or two had made the top-secret government job connection. In his Phd thesis he theorized that Egyptian culture was actually a lot older than we think. Also, he talked about, uh-" She consulted her notes. "-cross-culture pollination and how disparate cultures that never would've had any contact nonetheless developed similarities. He doesn't actually mention aliens himself, but the consensus is that it would've been the next step in his thought process. He got laughed out of the archaeological community for it and hasn't published anything since."

"That we know of," Coulson added.

Skye paused. "Right, sure, that we know of."

"Disenfranchised, with crazy theories and a knowledge of languages and ancient myths..." Trip began. "He sure sounds like the kinda guy Hydra would be looking to recruit."

Coulson looked to Skye. Skye nodded to the room at large. "Yeah, on paper he looks like the perfect candidate for Hydra... except for one huge blip. Remember that thing with the Hulk a few months ago? The one where Ross got demoted and the Hulkbusters disbanded because he fired on a civilian target and didn't give a shit?"

Everyone nodded.

"That was Jackson?" May asked.

"Yup, that was Jackson. I mean, could be he was just pissed that his friend's adopted daughter nearly got killed, but tactically it would've been a really bad move on Hydra's part."

"Agreed," said Coulson. "Hulk on the run keeps at least one of the Avengers out of the picture. According to a source of mine, Bruce Banner is now back living in Stark Tower."

"So, other than making our heads explode, is there a reason we're learning about this Jackson guy?" Lance asked.

"I'm not sure that breaking into Cheyenne Mountain is really all that feasible at the moment," said Coulson.

Skye smiled brightly. "Well then it's a good thing he's not in Colorado Springs right now. According to his credit card statement, he's in Washington this week."

"It'll be risky," said Coulson thoughtfully. "He had some pretty heavy-hitting political allies in his case against Ross. I'm not sure I want to stir that hornet's nest just yet."

"You've got something more, don't you?" May asked Skye.

Skye smirked. "Yup," she answered, popping the 'p'. "From Washington he's got a commercial flight booked for New York on Thursday. Our best guess for grabbing him is Friday."

"Why Friday?" asked Coulson.

"It's the anniversary of his parents' death. He's going to be in either one of two places: the cemetery where they're buried, or the museum where they died."

* * *

><p>Sam paused in front of the guest room and went over what he wanted to say once more in his head. He felt slightly ridiculous bracing himself as if for battle when the closest thing to a weapon he had were the hot rum toddies his mom had made, and the person he was about to face was a close friend. But only slightly ridiculous, because said friend was Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. And Steve Rogers was one stubborn son-of-a-bitch.<p>

"Hey," he said when he walked into the room.

Steve turned away from the window (not exactly a hardship, since the neighbour's yard didn't exactly make for picturesque viewing unless you were into scrap-pile chic) and smiled at the mugs Sam was holding. He shook his head.

"Your mother is an amazing woman," he said.

"Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed she's pretty much adopted you," Sam drawled as he handed him one of the mugs, snickering at the way Steve's ears turned pink in embarrassment.

Steve tried to hide a pleased little smile by taking a drink of his hot toddy, but Sam saw it anyway. He grinned. Then cleared his throat.

"Speaking of my mom, she's worried about you." It was cowardly, but Sam wasn't above using slightly under-handed methods if it meant ensuring the well-being of his friends. Besides, it wasn't completely false.

Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you've been pushing yourself too hard. You need to take a break, man."

And, yup, there it was: that flash of stubborn pride. "I'm fine," came the clipped reply.

"Yeah, you're really not. Look, I get that you really want to find Bucky, I do. But we've looked through every damn city, town and hamlet between Washington and New York and spent the last two weeks scouring Brooklyn in case he wanted to find something he recognized. And we've got nothing. We don't even know that we're on the right side of the Canadian boarder or that the Winter Soldier got enough of his memories back to remember Brooklyn as home. Hell, for all we know, he had an extraction plan that somehow didn't fall through and he's now back in Russia or something!"

Steve's eyes flashed with pain, his lips turning downwards unhappily. "Sam, if this is-"

Sam raised a palm out to stop him. "I'm not saying we should stop. I told you I'd go wherever you did and I meant it. I'm not abandoning your mission anymore than you are. Just... I'm just suggesting a break."

Steve opened his mouth to protest.

"One day," Sam cut him off again. "That's all I'm saying. Let's take one day to relax, clear our heads, recharge and then plan our attack from there."

Steve didn't look thrilled about the idea, but at least he'd stopped protesting. For the moment. Deciding to press his advantage while he could, Sam pulled the leaflet he'd found sitting on top of the newspaper pile in the livingroom out of his back pocket and showed it to Steve.

"Look, the Met's got a special exhibition on right now featuring art of the Ancient World or something. Apparently they're celebrating the fifty year anniversary of the crown jewel of their Egyptian collection. You like art, right?"

Steve reluctantly took the pamphlet from Sam. "I was an art student before the war," he agreed as he looked it over.

Sam fought to keep the triumphant grin off his face. "So what do you say? Tomorrow's Friday. We take the day off, meander around the Met, maybe catch a movie or go to the zoo or whatever we feel like afterwards and then we can spend the weekend figuring out a plan. Or however long it takes us."

He watched Steve hesitate, obviously tempted, but possibly feeling guilty about it.

"Sometimes stepping away from a problem for a short time and coming back to it with fresh eyes makes it easier to see the solution," he said. "Besides, my mom won't worry as much if she thinks you're taking care of yourself and taking a break when you need it."

Steve rolled his eyes and shot Sam an unamused look. "Sam, you and I both know you're just shamelessly using your mom to get me to say 'yes' to this."

Sam shrugged. "Is it working?"

Steve watched him for a few moments and then finally huffed in a mixture of amusement and frustration. "Yes, alright, fine, let's go to the museum tomorrow."

Sam grinned. "Good, then I haven't used my mom's name in vain after all."

Steve smiled and Sam couldn't help but notice how much more relaxed he looked already as he took another sip of his hot toddy.

* * *

><p>Daniel stood on the sidewalk of Fifth Avenue and stared at the long stairway that led to the imposing stone building of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It wasn't like he hadn't visited the museum since his parents' death, but he'd always managed to avoid most of the Egyptian wing (it often involved 'getting lost' or quietly wandering away from the school group he was with). Just knowing that was his main destination today made his palms sweat and the building before him tower in a way that had his mind flashing back to memories of Ra's hat'ak.<p>

He snorted softly to himself. He was being ridiculous, he knew he was.

He squeezed the cellphone in his pocket. It had Cassie's message on it, the one telling him that she was running about half an hour late, and his reply, saying he'd wait for her inside.

Well, he'd have to walk up those stairs first.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he squared his shoulders, pictured himself wearing his kevlar vest and combat boots, and marched up the stairs. The stairs were longer than the ramp at the SGC, but it wasn't like the doors at the end literally led to another world. It was just a building, after all.

And the ghosts that haunted it only existed in his own mind.

* * *

><p>See you all on Friday! :)<p> 


	3. Act I, pt ii

Yes, I know, it's not Friday. Sorry guys, but I underestimated how long it would take me to edit this chapter (I think I might have been half-asleep while writing parts of it, 'cause it felt like there were a lot more 'wait, where did the end of that sentence go?' and 'weren't there three guys here in the beginning of this scene?' moments than usual). Anyway, hopefully it's worth the wait anyway. :)

* * *

><p>WEAVING<p>

Natasha had waited for her mark on the staircase leading to the museum. She'd dyed her hair back to its customary red, but added a pair of large black plastic hipster glasses. With brown boots, pale-wash skinny jeans, a white lace tunic top and fitted tweed blazer, she was just another arts student as she sat on the steps reading a large tome about unveiling the mysteries of the pharaohs.

The book was a last-minute touch, because Doctor Daniel Jackson was an Egyptologist and she might need an excuse to create conversation.

The last several chapters had also been hollowed out and contained a small handgun.

She saw him approach the museum with obvious unease – having guessed why he was here, that hardly surprised her. She also saw him check his phone and hesitate, before squaring his shoulders as though preparing for battle and marching up the staircase. To his credit, once he'd forced himself to move he didn't slow until he disappeared into the building.

Casually, she checked her watch and then closed the tome she'd been pretending to read. She reached up to 'adjust' her glasses.

"This is Widow," she whispered. "Target spotted, I'm going in."

"_Roger that, Widow," _came the faint reply.

She noticed him in line to pay for admission and walked on, having purchased hers online the night before. Grabbing a pamphlet, she showed her ticket to the attendant and headed straight for the Egyptian art wing. She quickly found an intricate mural by the entrance she could pretend to be fascinated with.

Her eyes darted to the side every few seconds, towards the exhibit's entrance. Natasha waited.

A little less than ten minutes later, Daniel Jackson finally walked into the wing and paused. She noticed his adam's apple move as he swallowed heavily. Just like on the steps, saw him steel himself, as though this was the most difficult journey he would ever make. And for all she knew, perhaps it was.

Unlike on the steps, he didn't rush through the wing, but rather took his time perusing the artwork, examining the artifacts (and frowning at a few of the description cards). He was enjoying himself, she realized after a while. Or forcing himself to, at any rate; his movements were just a little too stiff, his eyes just a little too preoccupied with not looking ahead. His curiosity, his fascination, however, looked genuine.

Natasha followed him carefully, his leisurely pace allowing her to appear to be casually examining the displays. Her plan was to eventually draw him into conversation – she would get a read on him and adapt her plan from there. She already knew he was unhappy with his current job, and today he would be even more emotionally vulnerable. It was perfect timing. However, he'd also been the recipient of several civil service awards both from the Department of Defence, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the President himself. And he received hazard pay in addition to earning a paycheque equivalent to the military's most high-profile civilian scientists.

Natasha knew she needed to be careful not to underestimate him.

Doctor Jackson moved around someone already standing and staring with a puzzled sort of expression in front of a glass case containing an ornate sceptre. Natasha blinked, startled momentarily at the familiar face. She pursed her lips in annoyance and walked a little less casually towards him.

"Sam, what are you doing here?" she said, noting that, to his credit, he only jumped slightly.

Wide-eyed, Sam Wilson blinked down at her in surprise. "Jesus, Natasha, I could ask you the same thing. At least I was just minding my own business instead of sneaking up on people."

Natasha smirked. "I'm following a lead," she said. "Is Steve here?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's here somewhere," said Sam, waving his hand vaguely towards somewhere behind him. "And you had better not be telling me you're here because you're expecting trouble, 'cause let me tell you, it was not easy for me to convince him to take a day off. I even had to use my mother as blackmail material and if she ever finds out I did that, then she will _not_ be happy."

He paused, considered.

"Actually, nevermind, she might be really happy. She freaking loves Steve."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "You took Steve to meet you mother?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're hilarious. Seriously though, she is the sweetest most wonderful person in the world and she would fucking murder me if she found out I was in New York and staying in a hotel. Like, there would be blood and guts and possibly even tar and feathers."

"She sounds lovely," Natasha chuckled. Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the sceptre. "Walk with me, you can be my cover."

Sam allowed her to pull him away. "Hydra at the Met, though? Seriously?"

"Not sure if he's Hydra... In fact, I'm mostly convinced he's not. Just someone we believe deserves a closer look."

"Aah. So who is he?"

"A high-ranking civilian consultant who works at Cheyenne Mountain."

"Oh? I've heard rumours about that place."

"Really?"

"Yep. Like weird, freaky science experiment rumours. Knew a guy who'd been stationed there as a guard for a few months. He didn't really know anything specific, but man did he have some bizarre stories to tell."

"Hmm."

They rounded the corner and Natasha froze, cursing under her breath. Because there was Steve Rogers. Talking to Doctor Daniel Jackson. Wonderful.

* * *

><p>The moment Steve had walked into the museum, he'd found himself relaxing, his eyes widening in awe at the grandeur of the large stone building. He remembered coming here as a child for the first time with his mother – it had been his birthday present when he'd turned eleven, no, twelve. And just like then, it was like stepping into another world. A world where the present didn't matter, where the only thing that mattered was the past.<p>

Steve had always loved to draw, but this was where he'd fallen in love with art.

He should have done this sooner, he realized as he and Sam meandered their way through the Egyptian art exhibit, going in no particular direction. Hydra, the twenty-first century, SHIELD, they had no place within these walls. Even now, Steve often felt like a relic as he stumbled his way through this world he wasn't sure he would ever be comfortable in. But here, here there were true relics. The people who'd crafted the artwork he saw before him had long turned to dust, their names faded from existence even as their creations endured.

Would his shield have a place in this museum one day? A thousand years from now, would hundreds of people look at it, admire it for its beautiful yet simple design. Would they read the tiny display card that told them it had once been created by Howard Stark for the man that was known as Captain America? Would they even bother putting the name Steve Rogers on the card?

Oddly enough, he found it comforting to think of himself as just a part of history when faced with evidence of just how vast that history was. He was nothing more than flotsam bobbing upon the surface of the flowing river. Flotsam with a shield.

He hadn't really noticed when he'd wandered away from Sam. One moment he'd simply turned around to point out something about the chariot on display and realized his friend wasn't beside him. He blinked and looked around, but Sam was nowhere in sight.

Steve shrugged to himself. They'd run into each other again eventually.

It was then that he noticed the man standing at the entrance to a large exhibit across from him. He was just standing in the doorway, steadying himself with one hand clutching the corner of the wall, and trembling as he stared ahead into the room. Though completely out of place, Steve recognized that stance, could almost hear the man's madly-beating heart and, as he got closer, could definitely hear his quiet, too-quick breaths.

Steve placed a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. "Sir?" he asked quietly, careful not to spook him. "Are you alright?"

The man startled anyway, his muscles tensing, his weight automatically shifting slightly forward, ready to defend himself or run. Battle-ready. Was this man a soldier?

Steve took his hand off the man's shoulder and held both his hands palms out to show he was unarmed and didn't mean any harm. The other man was tall, though not as tall as Steve, and muscular beneath the grey button-up shirt he was wearing. Blue eyes blinked up at him warily from behind simple, wire-rim glasses as the man assessed his situation, reminded himself where he was and what was real.

Steve smiled at him and waited patiently for him to push away the images, memories, he'd been trapped in. Finally, the man closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took several deep breath.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I just got caught up there – I thought I could do it alone." He chuckled bitterly and opened his eyes. The pain in them was old, haunting. "Thank you. I'm fine now."

He wasn't. "Are you sure?" Steve asked softly. "I know what it's like to see horrible things when I close my eyes."

The man's eyes shifted to Steve, suddenly sharp, focused and intelligent as they took him in for probably the first time.

"You're a soldier," he finally said.

Steve shrugged. "I was in the army."

The man nodded and looked away, towards the room he'd been standing in front of. "I know that feeling too, but this... this is different."

"Uncle Daniel!"

Both men startled at the sudden voice that broke the silence of the exhibit. Steve looked up to see a young blonde woman with a giant hiking backpack hurrying towards them, ignoring the disapproving looks cast towards her for breaking the sacred silence of the museum. She stalked up to the man Steve had been speaking to and glared at him.

"I was only running a little late because of the airport buses," she said. "I told you to wait for me."

"Sorry, Cassie, I just thought that maybe... I mean, it's been so long." He sighed. "I didn't think it would hit me so hard."

The woman's eyes softened. "You don't have to do it alone, Uncle Daniel. That's why I'm here."

She stepped forward and embraced him. And after a moment's hesitation, the man – Daniel – hugged her back. Looking over his shoulder, the woman caught Steve's eye and mouthed 'thank you' to him. Steve smiled and nodded before stepping back, understanding he was no longer needed.

He turned back to the chariot display and blinked at an amused-looking Sam. And standing next to him... Natasha? Steve nodded a greeting to her.

"So, what was that about?" Sam asked him when he'd made his way over to them.

Steve shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure," he replied. "I noticed the guy standing there. Seemed like he was nearly hyperventilating, so I went over to see if I could help."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "PTSD? Weird place to get flashbacks, but it's not like those ever play by any rules."

"His parents died in that room," said Natasha in the same tone of voice she'd use for the weather forecast. Steve and Sam both looked to her with wide eyes. She looked back evenly. "Crushed to death when one of the stones of the archway they were assembling for the exhibit fell on top of them. He saw it happen."

"Fuck," said Sam quietly.

Steve silently agreed with his sentiment and, even though he would never be able to swear out loud in mixed company the way most of his new friends did, he thought Sam summed it up quite nicely. He turned and glanced to where the young woman was talking to Daniel softly. She held her hand out to him with a smile and Steve breathed a sign of relief when Daniel smiled back and took it.

They walked into the room together.

"So how exactly do you _know_ about random guy's parents?" he heard Sam ask Natasha.

Steve turned back and raised an eyebrow at her. "Is he why you're here?" he asked her. "Not that it isn't great to see you again, but I didn't think the Met was where you'd spend your downtime."

The corners of Natasha's lips quirked. "He caught my attention. Doctor Daniel Jackson, archaeologist, linguist, Egyptologist and civilian consultant for the air force, stationed at Cheyenne Mountain. Fairly high profile too, with extremely good relations with both the Russian and Chinese governments – or their representatives in any case."

Steve froze, the worries and tension that had evaporated the moment he'd stepped into the museum returning to him in a wave that threatened him with dizziness.

"You think he's Hydra?"

Natasha pursed her lips for a long moment before answering. "No. No, I don't think he's Hydra. But I do think he's involved in something that merits investigating."

He let out the breath he was holding. He nodded. "Okay, well then let's go take a look."

* * *

><p>Skye's plan hitched on the theory that museum security wasn't too clever and wouldn't care about a person hanging out in one place all day. The same <em>two<em> people hanging out in one exhibit room for hours on end would get noticed quickly, so she and Trip had decided to split up. Trip was wandering around the museum, while she had sat herself down in the corner of the room with her laptop. As her cover – and to pass the time – she was creating a three-dimensional graphic design of the arch in front of her and using some of the drawing around her to build a CGI model. Not that she entirely knew how to do more than a rudimentary design, but if anyone asked she was a film studies student using the exhibit as inspiration for a project.

It was as good of a cover as any and pretending to be a history or archaeology student would last about the three seconds it took for someone to realize she knew absolutely nothing about Ancient Egyptians except that they'd built pyramids. And a Sphinx.

When she saw Doctor Jackson enter the room, she immediately texted Trip. Then Coulson, who was with May staking out the cemetery.

She looked back up and realized he wasn't alone. Damn, that wasn't part of the plan. They'd hoped to grab him on his way out of either the museum or cemetery. The blonde girl with him was holding his hand and talking to him quietly, engaging him in conversation. It really should have occurred to them that he'd bring someone for moral support. Slowly, steadily they made their way across the room, not paying attention to anything else.

A few minutes later another group of people walked in. Skye felt the difference immediately. Their gaits were casual, but she couldn't help but notice the way each of them scanned the room when they entered. Their gazes didn't linger on anything, but she knew they had to have seen her. She looked back to her laptop and pretended to bury herself back into her work. Those three did not give her a good feeling. The big blond and the dark-skinned man moved like soldiers, like SHIELD agents. The smaller redhead... Skye could swear she felt her eyes watching her even though she wasn't even looking in her direction.

She didn't dare look up again until she heard footsteps coming towards her and felt a warm body settle next to her on the ground. Trip smiled and gave her a little wave.

"What's up, girlfriend?" he said. "How's that project coming?"

"I seem to have hit a snag," she said.

"Oh? Let me see." He leaned over to look at her laptop screen, close enough that they could whisper without being overheard.

Skye brought up a blank notepad on screen. 'He's not alone' she typed.

Trip's eyes darted upwards, pretending to examine the arch, but taking in the people standing in front of it at the same time. Skye glanced up just as the big blond man walked up to Jackson and his friend.

"Shit," she heard Trip whisper quietly. He spoke so quietly that even right next to him she had to strain to hear the words. "We've got bigger problems. Not a hundred percent sure about the others, but that big blond is _definitely_ Steve Rogers."

Skye's head snapped to Trip. "What?" she whispered, forgetting her cover for a second. Cursing inwardly, she looked back to her laptop. She typed: 'What's Captain America doing at the met?'

Trip shrugged and then pulled away from her and got his phone out. This changed things.

* * *

><p>Daniel stared at the arch. It was made of stone, ordinary stone. Thousand-year-old stone, yes, but still just stone. The museum lights illuminated it, allowing the faint, weather-worn carvings to be seen clearly, but it still just ordinary stone. It wasn't as tall as he remembered it, but then he'd been eight the last time he'd seen it. No, that wasn't true, the Gamekeeper had shown it to him on repeat when he'd been much older than that.<p>

These simple stones were the cause of so much grief. In his memories, they'd always loomed menacingly. But now they were just simple stones.

His throat seized up, words of thanks buried within the jumble of emotions he felt: sadness, relief, appreciation for their simple beauty. He squeezed Cassie's hand instead and she squeezed back. Looking at the arch now, he could see it for what it was and it was beautiful. The pyramids told the story of the pharaohs, and of a people who worshipped their leaders as deities. This arch, however, told a much simpler story, the story of a forgotten town and their much-beloved city-god, whose temple the arch was from.

He felt movement to his right as someone came to stand beside him.

"That's impressive-looking," a voice said quietly and Daniel recognized it as the blond soldier's. "What is it?"

It took Daniel a few moments, but he somehow found his voice.

"It's the entrance arch from a temple," said Daniel. "Dated to about the sixteenth century BC, it's the last remaining evidence of an Ancient Egyptian town. In fact the only reason it was found was because it's made of limestone. The rest of the town had probably been made of traditional mudbrick, which had been destroyed over time by the elements, crumbled to dust and then buried by sandstorms. It was an incredible find. This was the only complete part of the temple that remained, the rest of it was broken up and in ruins, although enough of the structure remained to determine what it had once been."

He remembered his parent's excitement. Remembered his father lifting his mother into the air and spinning her, both their faces lit up with delight and laughter. And then their more quiet excitement as they'd taken him by the hand and shown him what they'd found, patiently explained what these giant rocks really were, what they meant. Until he'd understood even with his child's mind that these rocks weren't just rocks, that they were a portal into another time, practically another world.

Daniel found himself smiling. He'd forgotten that.

"I wonder what it says on the sides," someone else said.

Daniel blinked and took a step forward, leaning over to get a better look at the hieroglyphs carved into the temple arch.

"Home of the great – no, glorious – Ra, beloved protector. May he ride in eternal glory."

There was a pause and then, "Woah, you can read that?!"

Daniel looked over at short-haired African-American man standing next to the blond. He, too, looked very much like a soldier. Daniel shrugged. "I'm an Egyptologist."

Next to him, a petite redhead frowned at the display card. "That's not what it says here," she said.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me, they translated it as 'May he live forever', didn't they? Probably used Budge too."

Beside him, Cassie giggled. "You and Budge: what do you have against the poor man?"

"He's a hack! Doesn't know the first thing about language and then he tries to translate something as complex as hieroglyphs and gets half of it completely wrong, prompting the rest of the archaeological community to create erroneous translations for years!"

Cassie's giggles dissolved into quiet laughter. "I'm sure he did the best he could, Uncle Daniel," she said. "He just wasn't the genius you are."

"I've worked with a few geniuses in my time," the blond man said with a chuckle. "And it seems to me that they never understand why everyone else doesn't see things the way they do, not realizing that they're geniuses precisely because they see the world differently."

Daniel raised an eyebrow at him and the blond man chuckled, his eyes filled with amusement. He held a hand out to Daniel.

"I'm Steve," he said and then pointed behind him. "And my friends, Sam and Natasha."

Daniel smiled back. "Daniel," he said shaking his hand. "And this is my niece, Cassandra."

Cassie mock-glared at him and then turned to the blond with a bright smile. "Call me Cassie."

"Nice to meet you, miss."

The museum shook.

"Oh my god, what was that?" asked Cassie, her eyes wide. "Earthquake?"

"Doesn't feel like one," Daniel answered automatically, already moving out of the room.

He knew the others were following him. Well, it was likely second-nature to the soldiers. Out in the main corridor of the Egyptian art exhibition, people were silent, looking around uncertainly.

The second time the museum shook, they heard the accompanying explosion. Steve and his friends raced past him towards the front of the museum. People around him screamed and began to rush out.

"Everyone calm down!" he yelled, his voice loud and filled with all the military authority he'd learnt from Jack. It stopped most of them in their tracks. "This building is made of solid stone, it's sturdy and it's like a maze. No matter what's going on out there, this is the safest place for you to be. Understand?"

He looked around, watching as pure panic calmed in most of their eyes and logic won. In the far corner he saw a Chinese family whispering amongst themselves, their expressions panicked. He walked over to them and smiled, bowed slightly and then repeated what he'd just said in Mandarin. Their faces brightened instantly and they bowed back, thanking him. He noticed some people moving further into the museum and urged the family to follow them.

He turned to Cassie. "Stay here," he told her.

She crossed her arms and gave her an unamused, unimpressed look that was so purely Janet it made his heart pang. "Yeah, not happening," she said.

"Cassie-"

"-Just go, I'll be right behind you."

Deciding he didn't have time to argue a lost cause, Daniel turned and rushed towards the front, crouching beside the exit and carefully looking around the corner. Inside the vast entrance hall, he saw about a dozen burly men dressed in bright blue armour that looked like it had been designed by someone who'd tried to fuse medieval knights together with traditional Japanese ninjas, but didn't really know much about either.

Then again, the P-90s weren't exactly historically accurate either, so maybe that wasn't the point.

The sound of gunshots and shouting echoed within the cavernous space, creating a deafening din. There was a loud crash followed by a chorus of screams as the glass in the ticket booths shattered and crashed to the ground. Daniel scanned the area, taking in every detail. He caught a glimpse of civilians cowering behind statues and pillars. A white-haired woman lay motionless on the ground, her cane haphazardly thrown mere inches away from her outstretched hand and, though he couldn't see her wounds, he saw the blood that was gradually spreading along the marble tiles.

He also saw Steve, Sam and Natasha. Sam had somehow managed to get hold of a handgun and was firing into the fray from behind an overturned table. Natasha and Steve, on the other hand, seemed to have just jumped in. He watched them for a few moments, mesmerized by the fluidity of their movements. Steve's movements reminded him of Teal'c: raw power controlled, tamed by a force of will that could cut through the fiercest opponents. Natasha was a whirlwind of motion as she twisted herself like a deadly acrobat, taking down her opponents using all four limbs and a taser weapon attached to her wrists.

If not for the steady stream of ridiculously-dressed thugs, they would've likely taken care of the situation within minutes.

Daniel took a deep breath and assessed the situation. He was unarmed and Steve, Sam and Natasha clearly didn't need his help. But they couldn't go on forever. Eventually, one of the thugs might get lucky. But if he broke position to run in to help, he'd have to run across quite a bit of uncovered ground with no Kevlar vest.

What would Jack do, he wondered? Or Teal'c for that matter...

Look for any advantage, the element of surprise. But how could he surprise armoured thugs that were armed to the teeth? First of all, he needed a weapon. The archaeologist in him cried out in horror at the mere thought of using one of the many weapons on display throughout the museum. It would be sacrilege! And yet the past wasn't worth more than present human lives.

He would still have to somehow lay an ambush and... wait.

Daniel cursed his own absent-mindedness. Hadn't he _just_ told all those people that the museum was like a maze?

Daniel patted himself down until he'd found the small visitor's map he'd grabbed absent-mindedly from beside the ticket booth and unfolded it. It took him about thirty seconds to figure out his best path. He backed away from the lobby and then turned and ran back the way he'd come.

"Uncle Daniel, what are you doing?" Cassie asked as she ran after him.

"Going around to cut them off at the antiquities exhibit," he answered. "Steve, Sam and Natasha are amazing, but they won't be able to hold that lobby on their own for much longer. Those blue ninja knight guys had a clear path to the Egyptian wing, but didn't take it, which means whatever they're here for isn't in there."

"Oh god, this is one of those infamous Daniel Jackson plans I keep hearing about, isn't it?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I'm not going to try talking them out of it until I can do it at gunpoint."

"Good."

They ran around corners, down corridors that hadn't seen sprinters in a very long time – if ever. At one point, Daniel realized there were more footsteps following him than just Cassie's and he turned to see two more people behind them: a dark-skinned man and a long-haired young woman. They weren't in hideous blue costumes, though, so he dismissed them as people who wanted to help.

As they approached the antiquities wing, he slowed down, pausing at every bend to listen for the clang of armour (he really hoped no one ever invented silent armour). It wasn't until they were facing a beautifully preserved statue of Athena that he finally heard anything. Bringing a hand up, he motioned for the people following him to stop and crouch down. Straining his ears, he could hear heavy bootfalls coming closer and – sure enough – the familiar clang of armour, albeit a bit less metallic than Jaffa armour Did they make it out of plastic?

"Daniel?" Cassie whispered behind him. "Shouldn't you be calling the SGC?"

Daniel shrugged. Yeah, he probably should have, but it was too late now. He'd deal with Jack's fit later.

"No time," he said, looking back to meet Cassie's eyes. She was gritting her teeth, her face pale, but determined. Then he looked past her to where the two who'd followed them were crouching down and also waiting. They met his eyes evenly and he couldn't help but be impressed by their calm – he wondered if maybe this wasn't the first time they'd done something like this.

He nodded to them. They nodded back.

Then he turned and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, bracing himself as the footsteps came closer. As soon as Daniel saw the tip of gun, he was in motion. He grabbed the barrel of the gun in his left hand and threw a punch with his right. The blue-clad ninja-knight stepped backwards to avoid the hit. Daniel still managed to clip him on the jaw, which threw him off-balance enough for Daniel to step in, discover the plastic-looking armour had some good hand-holds, and flip the man onto his back while wrenching the gun out of his hand. As the man fell, Daniel used the momentum to spin around towards the two ninja-knights further down the corridor.

The gun was already armed. He shouldered it and fired. First shot: the ninja-knight on the right went down with a scream of pain. Second shot: the ninja-knight ducked down at the last moment and the bullet hit the wall harmlessly.

He didn't take a third, instead diving out of the way as the man he hadn't hit emptied his clip at him. Daniel scrambled until he was safely behind the bend. The man he'd gotten his gun from was sprawled out not far from them; he was breathing, but unconscious. Daniel took a deep breath. When the gunfire stopped, he peeked quickly around the corner.

And found himself staring into the muzzle of a gun. Daniel leaped behind the corner again. The ninja-knight followed after him, but those precious bare inches were all Daniel needed. He shot three bullets into the armoured torso, happy to note that it wasn't bullet-proof – at least not at close range. The man's body jerked as each bullet hit and he staggered backwards before falling heavily into the statue behind him.

"No!" Daniel cried in horror as he watched the white marble Goddess of Wisdom topple over and land on the tile floors with a crash. An arm went flying as pieces broke apart.

Daniel ran forward to see the damage for himself.

And then froze, staring down at the pieces that now remained of the beautiful Athena. He blinked, cocking his head to the side to see if the change in angle would make what he was seeing change.

He felt someone come up beside him. "Huh," he heard Cassie say. "It's... hollow." A pause. "Is that something Ancient Romans did?"

"No," he replied absently. "They didn't have any technology capable of that."

Actually, he was fairly certain no one in the twenty-first century had the technology capable of creating a hollow marble statue. Not out of real marble in any case.

He handed his gun to the dark-skinned man. "Here, take this," he said absently before kneeling in front of the shards of statue.

Behind him he heard whispering, but didn't pay any attention. Somewhere in the distance he heard gunfire, but it wasn't coming closer so that was okay. No, not okay, but there was a buzzing in his mind as his thoughts whirled excitedly like a flock of humming birds. This wasn't an archaeological marvel he was staring at: this was an impossibility, something that physically shouldn't have been able to exist.

He carefully picked up one of the larger shards that had been part of Athena's back and ran a hand over it. It certainly felt like marble. He turned it over. The underside was perfectly smooth and so shiny he wondered if it had been perhaps coated with something. He set the piece aside and grabbed another. Moving it revealed a different sort of stone, darker, perfectly smoothed down with straight edges: two tablets of identical shape and size.

Daniel picked the tablets up reverently and stared at them. The letters were perfectly proportioned and cut into the stone with even, precise lines.

"Cassie, do you have any extra room in your backpack?" he finally asked. He looked up, taking note that the woman who'd joined them earlier was now armed with the P-90 from one of the fallen ninja-knights and the dark-skinned man wasn't with them anymore.

Cassie raised an eyebrow at him. "Maybe. Are you seriously planning to steal those from the museum?"

He shrugged. "It's not like they knew they were here. Besides, it'll save me time wading through bureaucracy later."

She rolled her eyes even as she shrugged the bag off her shoulders.

* * *

><p>It had happened so fast, Clint wasn't quite sure where the first of them had come from. One minute he was watching tourists taking pictures of the front of the Met, the next there were dozens of smurf-blue minions in armour running up the steps. There were screams as civilians moved out of their way. Clint caught sight of weapons in their hands and cursed, quickly notching an arrow into his bow.<p>

Armoured smurfs with assault rifles was exactly what this day needed.

He was aiming for the minions at the front when a loud bang echoed from the street below him. Seconds later, part of the facade of one of the side wings exploded, rocking the building. Clint followed the trajectory of strike and found three minions with what looked like modified rocket launchers. The second minion fired.

Clint shifted his aim and fired an arrow into the back of the neck of the third minion. The other two followed seconds later.

The comm in his ear flared to life. _"Hawkeye, this is Widow. What's going on out there?"_

"Evil armoured smurfs," Clint replied. "I've taken out the guys with the modified rocket launchers, but you've got about two to three dozen incoming and armed. Are you maintaining cover?"

"_Negative. I'm engaging the enemy."_

Clint shifted his aim back to the front of the Met. The doors had been thrown open and a batch of minions had already made their way inside. He aimed and fired into the group at the entrance. He didn't have enough arrows to take them all down, but he could take out enough to help Natasha. He managed two arrows before the minions realized they were under attack. His rooftop perch was hidden enough from the streets by several trees, so he wasn't concerned that they'd be able to spot him too quickly, but he would have to move eventually.

He continued firing arrows, trusting Natasha to hold her own inside.

The armour was a bit tricky, as long as he hit it straight-on, his arrows pierced right through, but if they hit at any sort of angle, they just slid along harmlessly. The need for even more careful aiming than usual was slowing him down and more were getting into the museum than he was happy with.

"Black Widow, what's your situation?" he asked into the comm.

"_We've managed to stop most of them in the lobby, but they're starting to break away into the exhibits."_

He smirked. "Bet they weren't expecting the Black Widow," he said.

"_They weren't expecting Captain America either."_

Hawkeye let loose another arrow and then paused, blinked. "Were _you_ expecting Captain America?"

"_No. He says 'hi' by the way."_

"Cool." He noticed movement down below as someone new stepped into view, the armour a darker shade of blue and more elaborate for no visibly practical reason. The parking lot, he suddenly realized: they were coming from the parking lot. Did they take an evil villain tour bus? "Uh, I think I've finally got eyes on evil villain Papa Smurf."

"_Acknowledged. I'm going to take down the minions inside the museum. Steve and Sam are coming out to help with the ones outside."_

"Roger that, Widow. I'll cover them."

A shrill alarm suddenly went off inside the museum, the thick stone walls muffling much of the noise but not all of it. As he notched another arrow, Clint wondered why someone hadn't done that sooner. And then the doors were thrown open from the inside and the front row of minions fell under an unexpected onslaught of bullets. He caught a glimpse of two, dark-skinned shooters just before a bright blue blur shot out from behind them and plowed into the minion huddle. When it stopped in the middle of the remaining group and started throwing punches, he realized it was Steve Rogers holding what looked like the breastplate off one of the armors.

Hawkeye aimed and fired an arrow at one of the minions unknowingly aiming their weapons at Captain America. The minion went down and he notched another arrow.

A single gunshot sounded from behind him.

Hawkeye whirled around, arrow automatically pointed at the only standing target, but instinct made him pause. Laying on the ground unmoving, was a bright blue armoured figure. But what stayed his movements was the man in a black business suit, white shirt and plain grey tie. And a face that should've been impossible.

The man was holding a handgun, but wasn't pointing it at him. Clint felt himself trembling, his ears suddenly buzzing with white noise and his eyes becoming unfocused even as he could make out every single, familiar feature.

"Hello, Hawkeye," said Phil Coulson with a slight smile. "It's been a while."

* * *

><p>The alarm was irritating, but she tuned it out as she slunk through the maze that was the museum. Natasha had spent two days studying the floor plans, but hadn't actually expected to need the knowledge like this. Her Widow's Bites were getting quite the work-out as she'd given Sam her gun and submachine guns weren't really her style.<p>

She just hoped they managed to find Daniel Jackson again after this was all over.

Natasha paused at the edge of the next corridor, hearing voices up ahead. A quick peek using a compact purse mirror revealed two more minions. Natasha grinned inwardly and slipped the compact back into the pocket of her pants – she'd lost the blazer at the very beginning of the fight. Silently as only the Black Widow could, Natasha stalked up to the garishly blue minions from behind.

They never heard her coming. At two feet away from them, she brought both arms up and fired a Widow Bite into each of them. From experience she now knew the armour was only semi-conductive, which meant she needed to knock them out the old fashion way. Cutting power to the Bites just before making contact herself, Natasha pounced onto the minion on her left and wrapped her thighs around his neck, using her body weight to pull him off-balance and send them crashing to the ground. Tumbling with the movement, she threw him face-down onto the tile floor and let go, pulling his helmet off with a sharp tug and throwing it at the second minion. It hit the second minion in the head, making him stagger and trip over his own feet, which were already unsteady from the electric shock of the Widow Bites.

A well-placed hit to the back of the head had the minion beneath her stilling and then she was on her feet again. A bullet breezed by her ear and she heard glass shatter as it hit a display case somewhere down the corridor. She dived under a spray of bullets, turning the dive into a forward tumble and nimbly springing to her feet right in front of him. The minion was much too slow to react and she kicked out at his knee with all her strength, feeling the pop through the armour as the joint dislocated.

The minion went down with a scream. Natasha grabbed the gun from his hands as he fell and used the butt of it to knock him out.

After half a moment's hesitation, she decided to keep the gun after all and continued onward. She passed a room full of large display cases and noticed several people crouching behind them. She caught a glimpse of jeans and a t-shirt and, next to them, the edge of a frilly pink sundress. Good, that meant word had somehow gotten round for non-combatants to hide. She moved on without showing she'd seen them, aware the museum was full of security cameras and she had no idea who was watching them.

Over the continuous blaring of the alarm, Natasha just managed to hear a single gunshot.

She ran quietly but quickly to the next bend, where she flattened herself to the wall and listened. She waited the span of three breaths and then spun around the corner, gun drawn, her mind automatically finding a target. The target was small, female and dressed in black combat attire. SHIELD-issue black combat attire: Natasha would recognize it anywhere. The woman's handgun was aimed at Natasha, her face blank, but eyes widening slightly in recognition.

"May," said Natasha, voice flat, surprise schooled out of her expression.

"Romanov," the Asian woman replied with an equally flat tone.

For several moments, neither of them moved, each clearly assessing their opponent and looking for any weaknesses to exploit while trying to figure out whether or not they trusted the other. Just then the Agent Melinda May's eyes slid to the side. With barely a glance, her arm moved to point down another corridor and she fired. There was a cry of pain followed by a thud.

May's eyes turned back to Natasha. "I'm with Coulson," she said.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her.

* * *

><p>The mastermind behind the attack was easily distinguishable by his even gaudier outfit (although it <em>was<em> at least a better colour) and the elaborate, gold-coloured headpiece that looked like a rather lopsided crown. There were even gemstones. He also had the biggest gun. One size larger than a rocket-launcher, it had a rounded end where several vials of red liquid were visible behind a clear panel. It thankfully wasn't bright blue, but metallic grey

The villain hefted it easily over his shoulder and aimed at the front of the museum. Moments later a thin steam began to waft out of a small opening just above the vial chamber as the weapon hummed to life. The villain grinned, all teeth and maliciousness.

A repulsor blast hit the back end of the weapon and the blue-armoured villain fell to the ground with a scream as the weapon blew apart and the ignited, the flames quickly turning a curious green colour when the vials shattered.

Iron Man hovered above the burning blue armour – or rather the blue armour that curiously didn't seem to be burning at all as fire burned around it.

"JARVIS," said Tony Stark inside his suit, once he'd determined that the fumes from whatever was burning in the vials wouldn't be dangerous to the EMTs. "Remind me later to grab some of this armour to analyze in the lab."

"_Very good, sir."_

Suddenly dull clangs echoed against the armour Tony rolled his eyes and lifted his arms, palms out towards the three bright blue minions who'd been paying attention and noticed their leader go down. He shot a repulsor blast out of each hand, taking down the first two immediately. The third went down before he'd had a chance to aim.

He blinked at the familiar arrow sticking out of the armour

"_Sir, there appears to be someone engaging the combatants on the steps. I believe it might be Steve Rogers."_

Tony looked up the steps in time to watch as a large blond dressed in jeans and holding something so bright blue it could only have been part of the armour the minions were wearing, vault over the iron handrail and kick an armoured minion square in the chest with both legs. The minion staggered back several steps and tripped over another minion, sending both of them tumbling down.

"Huh, I think you're right, JARVIS," said Tony quietly.

He fired his repulsors and flew above the fight. There were a few minions still trying to fight their way into the museum, but two figures knelt just inside the doorway and steadfastly denied them entry with the minions' own weapons. Bright blue armour littered the steps, some of it completely still and some of it moaning and dragging itself out of the way. Tony activated his external speakers.

"Ehem, attention all bright blue minions – and seriously, what is _with_ that colour? Anyway, your leader is down and my armour is bullet-proof. So, I can just sit here and take potshots at you while Captain America down there beats you into submission... or you can all surrender."

No more than five seconds passed in silence before the first gun fell to the ground, followed by a rain of clacking as the rest of the minions dropped their weapons and held up their hands in surrender.

"Good choice," said Iron Man. Then he turned to the police cars waiting along Fifth Avenue. "They're all yours guys."

Once the police had everything in hand, he landed next to Steve Rogers. The super soldier was looking considerably less than super, leaning heavily on the railing and breathing carefully. The side of his face was blossoming into a pretty impressive-looking bruise and blood ran from what looked like a bullet wound on his left shoulder and a graze along his left side. Blood was also soaking his right thigh, although Tony couldn't see what the wound itself looked like.

Tony lifted his facemask. "So, Rogers, long time no see," he said. "You've looked better."

Steve Rogers chuckled tiredly. "I'm sure I have, thanks Stark. And thanks for coming to help."

"No problem, Cap, anytime." He paused and looked pointedly at an arrow sticking out of one of the injured minions beside the doors, the back of his mind doggedly echoing the words 'Iron Man yes, Tony Stark no'. "So, was there an assembly invitation or something that I missed?"

Steve Rogers cocked his head. "How _did_ you find out what was going on?"

"Heard it on the news. Or, well, JARVIS saw it on the news and then turned my music off and showed it to me, which is really the same thing in the end, so whatever. Also, where's your shield?"

Rogers shook his head ruefully. "That was more of an invitation than any of us got. Left my shield back at Sam's. We were supposed to be taking the day off to relax."

"Sam? Who's Sam?"

Just then they were interrupted by a paramedic, who insisted on looking at Rogers' injuries.

Tony hung around, keeping a careful eye out in case he was needed – purposefully hovering close to the ambulance tending to Rogers in case he needed to run interference. He'd read any and all files on Captain America he could find in his father's things. Painkillers didn't work on the good captain any more than alcohol did. The bullet wound on his shoulder had an exit wound, but when his jeans were cut away around his thigh to reveal another bullet wound, it was quickly clear that bullet would have to be dug out.

Tony cringed at the thought and looked away, towards the museum. There were EMTs anxiously waiting just outside the doors to be given the all-clear to enter. He knew a few had already gone inside to take care of the injured in the museum's lobby. There was a quiet huddle of civilians with thin grey blankets standing at the bottom of the steps, being looked over by paramedics.

Suddenly, two paramedics burst out of the front doors with a stretcher. They ran down the stairs and bee-lined it to the ambulance next to Steve's. They moved with practised efficiency, not a single move wasted as they loaded the stretcher, containing an older man with tanned, deeply wrinkled skin and white hair, onto a gurney and packed it into the ambulance. Then one of the paramedics raced to the front and Tony heard the driver's side door slam shut.

The second paramedic, a young woman with blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail, leaned out of the ambulance.

"Does his wife want to come with him to the hospital?" she called out.

Tony looked over to where a worried-looking woman in her sixties stood staring at the ambulance. There were tears in her eyes as she absently fiddled with the camera around her neck. A much younger man stood next to her and spoke in a calm voice. Tony couldn't understand the words, but the language sounded German-esque. Dutch, maybe?

Finally, the woman nodded stiffly and answered the younger man. He looked back to the paramedic.

"Yes, she says she'd like that," he said. He then said something more to the woman, beckoning her towards the ambulance.

She turned to the man abruptly and embraced him, clearly surprising him. Tony heard the words 'duizendmaal dank' among a burst of other, less intelligible words. She pulled away quickly and ran to the ambulance, taking the paramedic's hand as she climbed into the vehicle. The door shut with a resounding bang. The siren sprang to life and the ambulance sped off towards the hospital.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Rogers lean out of the ambulance, earning himself a disapproving huff from the paramedic taping up his shoulder (they clearly had plans to take him to the hospital).

"Daniel?" he called out.

The man who'd been translating for the Dutch woman blinked from where he'd been standing and watching the ambulance drive away and leaned over. "Oh, hey, Steve," he said coming towards them. He frowned. "Good to see you're still alive and mostly in one piece."

Rogers grinned. "It'll take a bit more than some blue armoured guys to take me out."

"Well, they did have P-90s and, as my friend Jack keeps telling me, humans aren't bullet-proof."

Suddenly, a harried-looking police officer ran up to Daniel. "I'm sorry, sir, I know this isn't your job, but one of the museum visitors said they'd seen you speaking Chinese earlier. We're having a bit of communication problems..."

"Mandarin or Cantonese?" Daniel asked.

"Er... I don't know?"

"Okay, well, I'll do what I can."

"Thank you, if you could just follow me then, sir."

Tony watched the man and the police officer hurry off towards the museum. Daniel stopped for a moment beside a pair of young women and spoke briefly to the one with long blonde hair and a large backpack. He was about to ask Rogers who this Daniel was, when a voice interrupted him.

"Well, this has sure turned into one hell of a reunion," it said, coming from behind him.

He turned to look at Clint's grinning face. The archer was holding onto the bicep of a slim man wearing a black suit and tie. Tony completely forgot about Daniel in favour of gapping.

"Hey Cap," Clint continued. He nodded to Tony. "Stark." Then he pulled the other man a bit closer. "Speaking of reunions, look who I ran into."

Tony looked to Rogers, feeling slightly appeased that Captain America looked just as shocked by this little development as he was. Phil Coulson nodded to both of them.

"It's good to see both of you again," he said evenly. "It's been a while."

"Uh, yeah, it has been a while," Tony agreed. "A while during which you were supposed to be dead. You look surprisingly good for a corpse. Less decomposition than I would've expected for one."

"I get that a lot."

"So Fury lied to us," said Captain Rogers and wow, thought Tony, there was enough ice in that tone to recreate the iceberg Cap had been stuck inside of for seventy years.

"Not entirely..." Coulson's eyes slid to the paramedic tending to Captain America. "And perhaps we should discuss this somewhere else."

Tony nodded. That was probably a good idea. And he felt like he'd need something to drink for this conversation.

"You're not dead."

Tony didn't jump only because the Iron Man suit was too heavy for it. Natasha came up next to him, ignoring him entirely in favour of pinning Coulson with a sharp stare. It wasn't a glare and there wasn't even any sort of accusation in it. But it was steady, piercing and intense and Tony was really glad he wasn't the one it was being aimed at.

"Hello, Natasha," said Coulson. "I see you met up with May."

"Yes. Apparently we were after the same target."

That had Coulson blinking in surprise. "We were?"

"Yes. And I don't think he's Hydra."

"But not sure."

Natasha hesitated for a moment. "No, not entirely."

Tony threw his hands up. "Okay, so for those of us who came late to this spy party – namely me – what the hell are you talking about?"

"Daniel, the man who was just here, they think he's involved in something suspicious," Rogers answered with a sigh.

Tony turned to him, noting how tired and world-weary the other man suddenly looked. "This Daniel have a last name?" he asked.

"Jackson," Natasha replied. "Doctor Daniel Jackson."

Tony blinked. Damn, now that he thought of it, the man _had_ looked familiar. He looked back towards the museum and noticed that Daniel was back outside again talking to the young woman from before. She looked too young to be a girlfriend; maybe this was the niece. According to the file she was in her early twenties and had long, blonde hair.

Not bothering to say anything to the others, Tony began to cross the street towards them, calling Happy as he went. There were now two others with the young woman, the long-haired brunette having been joined by a tall, dark-skinned man. The way they kept looking towards the group he'd just left told him everything he needed to know about them.

"You're with Coulson, aren't you?" he said when he got to them.

"What, I don't know what you're–" the woman began to protest.

"-Sure whatever," he cut her off before turning to Daniel. "Doctor Daniel Jackson? I'm Tony Stark. Heard you were here from my friends over there."

Daniel Jackson's eyes widened in surprise, but he shook Tony's proffered hand and smiled politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mister Stark. This is my niece, Cassie."

Bingo. Tony grinned, genuinely pleased he'd hit the mark on that one. "I know it's been a long day for you and you probably already have a hotel in town and all that, but you should totally ditch that plan and join us at Stark Tower. There'll be pizza, beer, awesome company... I can have someone pick up your stuff from your hotel and everything."

"Er, that's very generous of you Mister Stark– "

"–Tony, please. I've got plenty of guest rooms, the best view of the city and someone who'll really, really want to meet you."

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, but Cassie nudged him before he could say anything. They exchanged a brief conversation consisting of several significant looks, including a rather odd shift of eyes towards Cassie's backpack. Finally Daniel sighed and turned back to Tony.

"Thank you Mister Stark, we would love to take you up on that offer."

"Fantastic, then it's settled. I've already called my chauffeur to bring the car around. It'll be a full house tonight so I'll just head on over first to get everything set up."

"And by that you mean, tell other people to get everything set up," said Daniel with a bemused look.

"Well, naturally. That's what being insanely rich is all about."

"I wouldn't know."

* * *

><p>In the end, Daniel had realized that leaving with Tony Stark's friends – he'd put two and two together and quickly realized he was talking about the Avengers here – was the easiest way to avoid anyone searching Cassie's backpack. Yes, Skye had seen him and Cassie hide the tablets there, but she hadn't told anyone about it yet. He doubted she'd keep completely silent, but he'd cross that bridge (or blow it up) when it came to it.<p>

Maybe he'd even have enough time to figure out what the tablets were.

As promised, Stark's chauffeur showed up in a long black stretch limo and they all piled into it (except for Steve and Sam, who went to the hospital). Daniel hadn't actually seen Stark Tower in person yet and he had to admit it looked quite impressive and very futuristic. The garage they were driven into looked ordinary enough and the row of cars that would've made Sam salivate, were still just regular cars, no jet blasters or hover bases to be seen.

It was rather difficult to be impressed by a Ferrari when you'd driven a space ship, after all.

An elevator door opened for them and they got into the spacious elevator.

"_Welcome to Stark Tower,"_ said a smooth voice with an English accent over the loud speaker. _"Mister Stark is waiting for you on the common floor."_

The doors closed and the elevator began to rise.

"Hello JARVIS," said the bland-looking man in a suit who'd been introduced as Phil Coulson.

"_Agent Coulson, it's good to see you alive."_

The man gave a small smile. "Thank you, JARVIS."

The elevator doors opened shortly and they all walked out. Tony Stark was standing in the lobby holding a glass of amber liquid, a meek-looking man with floppy black curls standing next to him.

"Oh good, glad you could all make it," said Tony with a wide grin. "Now, important introductions first: Doctor Daniel Jackson, meet Doctor Bruce Banner."

The man next to Tony stepped forward, towards Daniel, looking slightly nervous.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel blinked. He wracked his brain for a moment, until he placed the name. His eyes widened and he stepped forward, holding out a hand in greeting.

"You're the Hulk," he said, awed that such a powerful creature could be contained in such an ordinary-looking man. He smiled widely. "It's an honour to meet you, Doctor Banner."

Bruce Banner stared down at the offered hand for a moment before shaking his head in bemusement and grasping it with his own. Green flashed in his eyes and Daniel was vaguely aware of the others around him stiffening.

"Most people don't feel quite so honoured when they realize who I am," he said with a hint of bitterness.

Daniel shrugged. "Maybe it's because I met the Hulk first."

Bruce Banner blinked and then shook his head, chuckling. "Somehow, I don't think that's it. But it's probably why the Other Guy likes you."

"Other Guy? Is he like an alternate personality or an extension of your own self?"

Tony grinned as he took a sip of his scotch, glad to have found someone else who wasn't afraid of Bruce.

* * *

><p>Part 3 will definitely be up tomorrow night. :)<p> 


	4. Act I, pt iii

TAPESTRY

Tony herded everyone into the living room. It was a large open room with a bar in one corner, a large-screen TV dominating one wall and the promised spectacular view filling up the entire length of another. Couches and armchairs of various sizes littered the room, tastefully arranged so that a small group could have an intimate conversation or a large group could relax and chat. The large coffee table in the centre of the seating area was simple and sturdy, yet elegant, and made of dark wood.

Pizza arrived ten minutes later while they were comparing stories about events at the museum.

"So do we even know who this guy was?" Tony asked as he grabbed a slice of pizza. "I sort of didn't let him monologue before I shot up his fancy-looking gun so I actually have no idea."

"Someone who couldn't decide whether he wanted to be a ninja or a knight," Daniel suggested before biting into his own pizza.

"I was thinking Evil Papa Smurf," said Clint, looking thoughtful from where he was perched on the back of a leather loveseat. "But I can see that too."

"Does it matter?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow up at him from the same loveseat.

Clint shrugged. "Probably not. Guy was pretty lame anyway."

"And colourblind," Tony added. "Though, granted, the armor does look interesting. Brucie you'll help me analyze it later, right?"

Bruce blinked at him. "Uh, sure. I could do that."

"Cool!"

Someone's cellphone went off. Daniel started and then patted his pockets down before taking out a Blackberry. He looked at the caller ID and groaned.

"Uncle Jack?" Cassie asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

"Yeah," said Daniel. He sighed and answered the phone. "Hi Ja–"

He pulled the phone away from his ear and the rest of the room faintly heard the words _'-the hell have you been?'_. Daniel rolled his eyes and put the phone back to his ear as soon as there was a pause in shouting.

"Jack, relax. Yes, we were at the Met when the strange blue guys attacked; no it had nothing to do with me. I'm sure the NYPD are investigating. I'm fine. Cassie's fine. We're _fine_... No I'm not just saying that... Yes, I'm sure Jack, the paramedics looked me over and said I was good to go... Oh for–"

He pulled the cellphone away from his ear and thrust it at Cassie. "Here, you tell him we're fine!"

Cassie giggled and took the phone. "Hi Uncle Jack. Yeah, I'm alright and so's Daniel and yes, the EMTs really did check him out. He's gonna have some bruises from leaping out of the way of a bunch of bullets, but otherwise he really is fine."

She put a finger over the speaker and looked to Daniel. "He says he's in shock," she said quietly. Daniel glared at the phone.

She returned back to the conversation with a grin. "You should've seen him, Uncle Jack, he totally busted out some special ops moves back there. Disarmed one of the guys, took his gun and then shot down another. Then he had to jump out of the way of the third guy's bullets, but he managed to take him out afterwards too. It was terrifying, but pretty cool. You taught him well."

Next to her, Daniel's face took on a slightly pink hue that had the rest of the room chuckling. Skye turned to Coulson. "She's right, it actually was pretty cool," she whispered.

Next to her, Trip nodded. "Knew how to use that gun like a pro."

Coulson acknowledged the information with a tilt of his head, his face not betraying any of his thoughts.

Cassie handed the phone back to Daniel, who said good-bye to his friend and hung up. "Well, that could've gone worse," he said as he pocketed the phone. Then he yawned and sighed. "Thank you for dinner and for getting us out of the way of reporters and everything, but we should probably head back to our hotel now."

"I'm all for that," said Cassie. "I wrote my last exam yesterday afternoon and then flew up from Nevada this morning... I'm beat."

"Hey, hey, what's this about leaving?" Tony exclaimed. "Remember the part where I mentioned guest rooms and how I have a lot of them? Seriously, stay here tonight. I've got soap, towels, spare toothbrushes. You name it, I've got it and if I don't have it, then JARVIS can get it for you."

Daniel looked to Cassie, who held her hands up. "Hey, your call. I went to the museum direct from the airport; all my stuff's in my bag."

Daniel turned to Tony. "Then thank you, we'll happily take you up on that offer and make it an early night. It's been a bit of a long week."

Tony grinned. "Excellent! JARVIS will show you to your rooms."

"JARVIS?"

"_I will be happy to assist you when you are ready to retire, Doctor Jackson."_

Daniel's head snapped up. "Oh, you're the voice from the elevator."

"_Indeed. I am a fully functional AI and I maintain and oversee building operations."_

"An AI?" Daniel's eyes widened, the tiredness vanishing from his face as he stood up. "Fully functional: does that mean you have the capacity for independent thought or just that you control all aspects of the house's systems?"

"_Both statements are correct, Doctor Jackson, however fully-functional refers to the way my programming mimics human mental pathways, allowing for the capacity to learn and adapt to new information independent of the initial programming."_

Tony stared at the archaeologist. "Uh, you realize the guy who made him is right here? If you have any questions about JARVIS you could just ask me."

Daniel frowned, his look disapproving. "But if JARVIS is right here and fully capable of answering questions about himself. It would be rude of me to ask someone else as though he weren't."

Tony gaped, while a few people snickered. Even Coulson's eyes shone with amusement.

Meanwhile, Cassie stood up with an exasperated sigh and retrieved her backpack from the hallway. Hefting it over her shoulder, she then linked her arms with one of Daniel's. "Goodnight everyone," she said before linking her arms with Daniel and dragging him away towards a newly lit-up corridor. They disappeared from sight just as Daniel was starting to ask JARVIS about whether independent thought meant being able to create opinions on music, movies and books, whether he was able to enjoy such things.

"JARVIS, there's no need to lock them in or anything, but let us know if either of them come back down to this floor," said Tony once their voices became too faint to hear.

"_Understood, sir. And sir, if I may, I do not believe Doctor Jackson is ruthless enough to be Hydra."_

"Hydra?!" said Bruce. He turned to stare at the others. "You think he's _Hydra_?!"

His eyes flashed green and the last word carried an echo of a second, deeper voice. Bruce immediately closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. The others watched him warily. Tony was the only one not disturbed by the scene. Instead of watching Bruce, he turned cold eyes on his fellow Avengers and Coulson's team.

"Daniel is Hulk's friend," he said quietly. "So you'd better have some really solid evidence to support that accusation."

The young woman with Coulson swallowed (she had an unusual, airy name... Skye, that was it, her name was Skye). Her eyes darting nervously towards Bruce before she steeled herself and met Tony's eyes. "He's the perfect candidate for Hydra recruitment. Orphaned at a young age, brilliant, a loner, never married, no family connections except for a crazy grandfather who's disappeared off the face of the earth, and looked down upon by everyone in his chosen profession because of his, uh, unorthodox theories. Unorthodox, slightly out-of-this-world theories."

Tony winced. "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound a bit suspicious. And I know he's got government and military connections 'cause he pulled those strings to get the Hulkbusters disbanded."

"He's certainly involved with something," Natasha admitted. "But I don't think it's Hydra."

"For what it's worth, he doesn't act like an evil Nazi," said Clint with a shrug.

"He could be a very good actor," said Coulson.

"He gave the Hulk cake."

All eyes turned to Bruce at his soft words.

"He gave the Hulk cake," said the Asian woman sitting next to Coulson. Tony thought her name was May... something May. "And that's relevant how, exactly?"

Bruce smiled. "I don't remember any of it myself, but I have read the report. The Hulk helped Daniel Jackson save Cassie and then Daniel Jackson helped save the Hulk. What isn't in the report is that before the Hulk left, he gave him a bag with three bottles of water and a giant chocolate cake. I'm assuming he had them in his car. It was with me when I woke up in a cave."

"Basic human kindness," said a new voice and they all turned to the sight of Steve Rogers.

He looked tired, worn, his left cheek sporting a deep purple bruise and there were bandages peeking out from behind a navy blue t-shirt. He was leaning on a crutch, an African-American man Tony assumed was the mysterious Sam hovering just behind him. He moved carefully, like someone in a lot of pain even though none of it showed on his face.

Tony winced, knowing the super soldier might heal faster than anyone else, but his pain threshhold wasn't any higher than the average human's. Rogers carefully lowered himself down into the spot recently vacated by Daniel and leaned his crutch against the side. Natasha leaned over and pushed a box still containing some pizza slices in his direction.

"So, Agent, you and your people had better have a really good story here," said Tony, turning his attention back to Coulson. "And don't think we've forgotten about how you've been pretending to be dead for the past, what, two years?"

The corner of Coulson's mouth twitched. "It's Director now, actually."

Tony blinked.

"So the rumours are true then," said Natasha with a smirk.

"That depends on the rumours."

"Agent Coulson," Steve Rogers cut in, his voice low and tone easy, but his eyes held an edge of steel. "I may not have seen any of your evidence against Daniel Jackson, but I did spent some time with him in the museum and he seems like someone who tries to help people, not hurt them. And before you start accusing anyone of being Hydra, maybe you should start by explainin' why we should be trusting you. Modern technology has come a long way: how do we know you're really Phil Coulson?"

Rogers' jaw visibily tightened. "You coulda been brainwashed for all we know."

Coulson looked Rogers in the eye. "I suppose you don't."

"Why didn't you tell us you were alive?" Clint asked.

Coulson's eyes flicked over to the archer, before returning to Rogers. "Fury's orders."

Rogers nodded.

"But Fury's dead and you're apparently the new director, which means you get to make the – alright, what is that look for Capsicle?" Tony glared at Rogers, having seen the startled expression that passed over his face. He thought back over what he'd just said. "Wait. Son of a – Fury's not dead?! That man's an over-inflated, one-eyed cockroach is what he is."

Rogers winced. "Er, sorry, I figured you'd know. I mean, I thought Maria would've told you."

"Maria? As in Maria Hill?! That former SHIELD deputy-director that's currently on my payroll? You have got to be kidding me!" Tony glowered at Coulson. "Did she know you were alive? Oh, what am I saying, of course she did."

He stood up, suddenly needing to do go build something, or blow it up, or build something he could blow up. Or – oooh analyse.

"Hey Green, wanna go take apart some garishly blue armour and see what makes it tick? Well, metaphorically tick, 'cause there aren't any actual mechanisms in it anywhere and therefore no literal ticking."

Bruce was stone-faced when he unfolded his legs and stood up. "I think that's a good idea," he said.

Coulson sighed as he watched them leave. "Well, that could've gone worse," he said. Then he turned to Natasha. "I realize I owe you all an explanation and I will tell you what I can of it in a moment – and please keep in mind when I do that even I don't know all the details. I am, however, curious as to why you seem so convinced Daniel isn't Hydra. I'm assuming you have something we don't."

Natasha nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I overheard a conversation between him and Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill," she said. "He mentioned that morale at the SGC was bad because of New York. It sounded like they had the means to help and weren't allowed to because it would mean exposing the project. His exact words were: 'side-lined in the name of maintaining secrecy'."

"I've heard the recording of the conversation," Clint pipped up. "He did_ not_ sound happy about it."

Natasha nodded. "He also mentioned a threat bigger than Hydra."

Steve's eyes widened. "Something worse than Hydra?" he said. "And something the government, apparently, knows about."

"Yes. Daniel Jackson said that something called the Ori were preparing a large-scale attack and that right now, we have no way to defend ourselves."

A moment of stunned silence filled the room.

"Well, that's not good," said Coulson.

* * *

><p>It was just past midnight and Daniel couldn't sleep.<p>

Part of him was exhausted: mentally, physically exhausted. It had been a long day. The other, unfortunately much louder, part of him was tugging at the bit to get started on that tablet. He'd only needed a glimpse to recognize the familiar lines of Ancient script. And to realize that it wasn't normal Ancient writing. A new dialect? Or perhaps a code? Someone had hidden the tablets inside a statue of all things: had they intended to come back for them? Had they been hidden from someone or for someone?

He turned over and sighed. Just outside his bedroom, the tablets were burning a hole through Cassie's sweater, which they were still wrapped in, calling to him like sirens in the night. Forget beautiful, inhuman enchantresses from Greek myths, these tablets were a far more seductive temptation. They were a mystery waiting to be solved.

But he needed sleep. Needed to be rested. What if Jack magically managed to convince someone that the alien armada was a problem that needed a solution sooner not later? Miracles could happen. And he was tired. So, so tired. He needed to sleep...

Daniel gave up.

A short while later he slid out of his guest suite wearing a pair of jeans and a borrowed bath robe, sweater-wrapped tablets held securely under one arm along with a blank, lined notebook he'd found in the suite's desk drawer.

He made his way down into the communal living room, blinking when the the lights turned on automatically as he entered. Shaking his head in amusement, he walked over to the kitchen, this time expecting the lights to turn on and grinning when they did.

"Thanks, JARVIS," he said. "I'm assuming that's you."

"_Indeed it is, Daniel Jackson."_ Daniel smiled. The AI sounded amused. _"May I inquire as to what you are doing up so late?"_

"Couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd get started on this project I picked up at the museum."

Checking the coffeepot, Daniel made a triumphant sound when he found it still had coffee in it. A quick check of the cupboards above the pot and he had a mug. The coffee was not only the same amazing blend Tony had served him earlier, but it was still warm. Which meant that either he wasn't the only person who couldn't sleep, or the machine had one hell of an amazing thermos.

Daniel hummed happily to himself as he took a sip of his coffee and moved back out into the living room. He stood in front of the coffee table thoughtfully for a moment.

"JARVIS? I don't suppose that somewhere in these endless corridors of rooms there's something like a conference room – with, like, whiteboards and stuff – that Tony wouldn't mind me using?"

"_There is indeed a briefing room just down the hall and, given that sir seldom uses it himself, I do not believe he would mind if you were to use it." _

"Great! Thank you, JARVIS."

"_My pleasure, Daniel Jackson. If you would follow me."_

Tony yawned as he wandered blearily into the kitchen. His mug made a dull clunk when he placed it on the counter, exhaustion and alcohol making his movements clumsy. He reached for the coffeepot and frowned. It felt lighter than it should have. Sure enough, there was only half a cup inside. He could've sworn there'd been more in there the last time he'd come up for some. Bruce maybe? Except Bruce was still in his lab and he had a kettle there (Pepper had no problem with Bruce having a kettle, but she wouldn't allow Tony to keep a coffeemaker in his lab: it was so unfair).

"JARVIS, where'd all the coffee go?" he asked as he stared forlornly into his half-empty mug.

"_Daniel Jackson helped himself to some earlier. He's currently working on a translation in the Avenger's briefing room. Perhaps you might like to go check on him."_

Tony blinked. "Translation of what?"

"_I am not certain. Daniel Jackson seems to be in possession of two stone tablets. I took the liberty of scanning them and they appear to be a minimum of three thousand years old, however I am unfamiliar with the language and the script is not found in any of my databases."_

Tony gulped down the coffee he had and put the mug down on the first available surface before going to check on Daniel.

The briefing room was something Tony had built on the theory of 'it could come in handy', but the room had yet to be used by anyone except Pepper when she'd been planning last year's Maria Stark Foundation Charity Gala. So walking into the room to find half the whiteboards lining the walls covered in print – some of it was English, some of it could've been Klingon for all Tony could tell – came as a bit of a shock. An open notebook lay on the table, next to an abandoned coffee mug and a bright red sweater that was laid out flat with two rectangular stone tablets on top of it.

A blown-up holographic projection of the tablets hovered in the air above them. And wow, JARVIS apparently _really_ liked the guy if he'd decided to be this helpful. Or, Tony thought as he walked over to get a closer look at the lettering from the original tablet, he was curious about this tablet and the language that his encyclopedia of languages couldn't identify.

Daniel was working at one of the whiteboards, carefully copying a line of the unknown script onto the board, leaving room beneath each line for, presumably, an English translation.

"JARVIS, how long has he been at this?" Tony asked quietly.

"_Daniel Jackson began work at 12:42, sir,"_ came the equally-quiet reply.

Not that it appeared to matter, because Daniel didn't seem at all aware that he wasn't alone anymore, his eyes intent on the translation he was working on. Tony wondered if this was how he looked when he was absorbed in calculations. Tony glanced at the digital clock on the wall. It read 5:56. He blinked. Okay, he hadn't realized it was that late, er, early.

Tony cleared his throat. "So, Daniel, you've been busy I see."

"Not now Cam," Daniel replied absently. "I'll eat something later."

Tony's eyebrows rose and he blinked. That reply had sounded automatic; in fact, Daniel hadn't even paused in his work to think about it. Tony grinned. It seemed that he and Doctor Daniel Jackson were cut from the same mould... only from different sides of it. Tony walked over and leaned against the whiteboard next to Daniel, careful not to smudge any of the writing.

"Sorry, Daniel, 'fraid I'm not Cam," he said with a cheerful grin. "On the plus side, I'm totally not here to drag you away and force you to do so-called healthy things like eating and/or sleeping."

Daniel blinked and looked over to Tony, looking confused for a moment. Then he looked to the marker in his hand and up at the ceiling.

"I was wondering why my office was so bright," he said, sounding befuddled, like he couldn't quite remember how he'd gotten where he was. "Smelt wrong too..."

He trailed off, his gaze falling back to Tony again. He blinked once, twice, and then his eyes widened slightly in realization. "Oh, you're a scientist, right?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Engineer, technically, but–"

"–That means you know some physics right?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I know _some_ physics, I'm a gen–"

"–Good, I need you to take a look at this part over here."

Daniel grabbed him by the arm and didn't seem to notice Tony's sputtered a protest against the manhandling. He stopped in front of a different section of the whiteboard. This section had already been translated into English.

"I've translated it as much as I could, but technical jargon can be a bit tricky, because it develops differently than the rest of the language and knowledge of the specific field in question becomes important." Daniel let go of Tony and indicated a section in the text. "For instance, this part here talks about energy, but I can't quite tell if it's talking about energy in the form of electricity or some other sort of outside source, or an inner core that creates the energy."

"Woah, woah, hang on!" Tony waved his arms in front of him to make Daniel stop. It worked. "Daniel, buddy, I thought you were translating a couple of three-thousand-year-old tablets?"

Daniel blinked. "I am. Wait, how do you know about – oh right, of course, Skye probably told you." He took a deep breath, not noticing Tony's surprised expression. "Yes, this is from those tablets. And... well, I think it's describing an engine."

"An engine?!" Tony stepped up closer to the whiteboard and began reading.

"Or possibly a power source... I'm not an engineer so I'm not entirely sure."

"JARVIS, bring up a blank project template. I don't think this is an engine exactly... are you sure this part here is accurate?"

Daniel took a closer look at where Tony indicated. "Hmm... like I said, jargon can be difficult; is there something else that would make more sense?"

"You know I'm not even sure."

Fifteen minutes later, Bruce shuffled into the room, having been attracted by the light spilling out into the hallway. Daniel was at one end of the room working on some sort of translation and Tony was on the other, reading over a translation it looked like Daniel had already made, a holographic display to his left. He kept looking between the translation and the holographic contraption he had started building.

"Hello, what's going on here?" Bruce called to them.

Daniel ignored him completely, but Tony looked up with a grin. "Brussel Sprout, come over and take a look at this. Daniel translated it from a couple of tablets he apparently found at the Met. It's fascinating... and I'm trying to figure out if it's even possible."

"What is it?" Bruce asked, walking over to Tony's side to take a look.

"It's describing an energy source, I think, and then possibly a type of device that uses said energy source." He paused and grinned at Bruce. "Sadly it's all theory, but the math... the math would be beautiful. Like, mind-blowingly beautiful. Seriously, take a look at this. I think it's talking about folding space, or folding space molecules... and over here, there's a bit about pulling energy from emptiness..."

Bruce put his glasses on and began to examine the translation. "Emptiness? You mean like empty space?"

Tony froze, his eyes widening comically. "Daniel said technical jargon can be difficult to translate correctly." He looked at Bruce. "You're thinking it's supposed to be 'vacuum' instead of 'emptiness', aren't you?"

Bruce nodded as he continued to read. "That's certainly one possibility."

* * *

><p>Cassie had been puzzled to find Daniel missing from his 'guest room' (apparently Tony Stark's idea of a room was very different to everyone else's definition of a room). Then she'd noticed that her sweater and the tablets were missing and was no longer quite so surprised.<p>

"JARVIS, do you know where my uncle is?" she asked.

Following the AI's instructions led her to what looked like a conference room. That had, apparently, been taken over by a trio of mad scientists. Well, two mad scientists and a mad archaeologist.

She'd heard Tony and Doctor Banner arguing from the hallway about whether or not something was possible – whatever they were arguing about was clearly light years away from the material covered in her third year physics course that she didn't even bother trying to follow the conversation. Besides, they were arguing in half-sentences and short, cut-off phrases. Daniel was quietly working on a translation, oblivious to the noise.

She shook her head in amusement. Scientists.

Well, at least she knew one way to get their attention.

"JARVIS, is there a coffee machine nearby?" she asked.

"_Indeed, there is one in the kitchen, Miss Fraiser."_

"Uhg, can't you just call me Cassie?" she asked as she turned to leave.

"_I'm afraid that is against my programming, Miss Fraiser."_

"You know I'll bet you do a lot of things that are against your programming. Like World of Warcraft, for instance. Pretty sure Tony didn't input that into your programming, but I definitely heard you tell Uncle Daniel that you play in what passes for your spare time."

"_I have no idea what you mean."_

"Uh huh, sure you don't."

Just then the elevator on the other end of the hallway pinged. She turned in time to watch the doors open. Steve stepped out and she caught a glimpse of Sam in the elevator before the doors closed.

"Good morning, Steve," she called to him.

He looked to her and smiled before limping towards her. "Good morning, Cassie," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Should you be walking on that leg? I heard you got shot. Tony said they were going to have to dig the bullet out. In fact, I'm pretty sure you shouldn't even be out of hospital yet."

Steve blinked at her, looking surprised. "It's mostly healed already. Still twinges a bit, but I'll be fine by tomorrow. Super-serum." He added the last as an after-thought.

Cassie gaped at him. "Wait what? My mother was a doctor, I _know_ that bullet wounds take longer to heal than that. A lot longer. How could you possibly be fine by tomor – oh." She stopped as something suddenly occurred to her and she felt at once stupid and excited. "I don't know why I didn't make the connection sooner: you're Captain America, aren't you?"

His features settled into a sort of half-smile. "Yes, I am." He frowned. "You mean the others didn't tell you?"

"They probably figured we already knew. Which is probably a fair call, except that while Daniel _is_ a genius, he can also be fairly oblivious when it comes to things that are less than two thousand years old." She grinned. "You're way too young for him, Steve."

Steve chuckled. Just then the voices from the conference room grew in volume again and Steve glanced up at the sound, looking worried.

"Don't worry," said Cassie. "They're busy arguing the science of something Daniel translated. Trust me, you're not getting anywhere near that without ammunition."

"Ammunition?" Steve asked, looking amused.

The ammunition worked, because the moment Steve, Cassie and the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee entered the room, it went miraculously silent. Until Tony nearly tripped over himself in his rush to get around the long conference table. Even Daniel surfaced momentarily from his work in order to hurry over to grab a mug of hot, caffeinated gold.

"So, what exactly are you three working on?" Steve asked as he sipped his own coffee. "Loudly, I might add."

"Hmm... the language on the tablet is a derivative of Latin, but it was written in code, which is why it didn't look familiar," Daniel answered. "Took me a while, but once I realized the conjugation looked almost Greek, the rest of it was just a matter of working out how much of it had been altered and how much was technical jargon... It's fascinating really, how simple and elegant the code is and how it's been weaved subtly into the original language almost creating a language of its own–"

"–Which is fascinating, I'm sure," Tony interrupted. "But the _really_ interesting part is this bit here where it's describing some sort of machine. At first we were thinking it's a vehicle of some sort, but I'm pretty sure it's not. Whatever it is, it looks like it's, uh, trying to destabilize its molecules and make them vibrate out of sync with the molecules around it."

"You know, I'm not sure that 'vibrate' is an appropriate description of what its doing," Bruce pointed out.

Tony threw his hands up. "Well how would you describe it then?!"

Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment. "More like phasing out of sync."

"Which means what exactly?" Coulson asked from the doorway. They all turned at his sudden appearance, his expression giving nothing away about how long he'd stood there.

Tony opened his mouth to reply.

"Do mean shifting out of phase through solid matter or into another dimension?" Daniel suddenly asked.

Tony closed his mouth. He and Bruce looked to each other and then to Daniel.

"That's... a very good question," said Tony. "And not one I would expect from a non-physics major."

Daniel shrugged. "I work around physicists and engineers; some of it was bound to sink in eventually."

Bruce's expression was suspicious, but he nodded slowly anyway. "We don't really have enough data to know for sure either way, although I'd personally been thinking of an invisibility cloak."

"Creating an invisibility cloak wouldn't require the kind of power they're talking about here,"said Tony dismissively. This had clearly been one of the things they'd been arguing about.

"You know, it's not entirely clear according to the translated text that the power source is meant to power the device in question."

"Then why would it even be here?"

"Uh, you know it is just a rough translation, guys..." Daniel tried to interject, but was ignored as Tony and Bruce launched into another discussion full of half-sentences and cut-off phrases. He wondered if this was how Jack had felt back in the early days of the team when he and Sam had started brainstorming.

He sighed and walked over to the tablet again to take another look at the original text. Even in code, sometimes the original text held clues and nuances that a translation, no matter how accurate, missed. He skipped the formal introduction and went straight to the description of technology. He read it over again, carefully reading each sentence in its original Ancient under his breath.

Half-way down, he frowned and double-backed in the text to study the structure of the sentences. Oh. When he looked at it as a whole, including the brief, formal introduction, it read like an official document. And the technologies described... no, not just described, _listed_. Not only that, but the last sentenced seemed to be cut off, as though there was meant to be more to the list. But why then include only these two pages...

A short while later he stepped back when a loud yawn interrupted his concentration. He scanned the room and blinked, realizing there were suddenly a lot more people milling about, mostly sitting around the long table. Tony and Bruce had moved away from his original translation and seemed to be having fun debating science over crude marker drawings of what Daniel assumed were their theories of the device described in the tablet. And there was food on the table. On cue, Daniel's stomach growled.

Steve looked up from where he and Cassie were hunched over a laptop with Clint looking on in amusement. He grinned at Daniel.

"Come on over and help yourself, Daniel," he said.

"Thank you," said Daniel and wandered over to refill his coffee mug and grabbed a danish from what looked like a severely-depleted pile. "I see they've moved to trying to construct the device."

Steve chuckled. "Yup, not that I have any idea what they're talking about."

"None of us do, Cap, so don't worry: it's not just you," said Clint absently, wincing at something Cassie was doing on-screen. Daniel leaned over and saw they were playing a computer game: one of those empire-building ones.

He gulped down the rest of his coffee and finished his danish. After a short pause, he grabbed a second.

He placed a hand on Cassie's shoulder to get her attention. "I'm going to go grab a shower," he told her once she'd looked up.

"Okay, Uncle Daniel," she said. "Maybe you should try and take a nap too."

He shrugged. "Not a bad idea. I'll try."

He doubted it would work, there were too many thoughts buzzing around inside his head, the elation of discovery infusing his veins. He was tired, yes, but he also felt more invigorated, more awake, than he had in months.

He managed to make it out of the conference room before the giddiness overtook him completely. The tablet wasn't just a document: it was an inventory, he was sure of it. Figuring out why only two pages had been left behind had taken him a bit longer despite the answer staring him in the face the entire time. Running down both tablets were decorative symbols and he'd thought they were mere decorations. Which was why he hadn't paid them any attention.

Once he had though, it had taken him only minutes to realize what he was looking at: a gate address.

The first thing he did when he made it to his guest suite, wasn't take a shower. Instead he paused in front of the nightstand, where he'd placed the Target bag containing the 'present' Cassie had brought him from Sam. It was fairly large, but not particularly heavy. The package was wrapped with military precision in sandy brown wrapping paper covered in little cartoon pyramids and Sphinxes and tied with bright red ribbon. Daniel grinned, wondering where Sam had managed to find the wrapping paper.

Carefully, he untied the ribbon and unwrapped the gift. After a quick search, he found a pair of scissors in a desk in the suite's main room. He opened the box and instantly was assaulted by the aroma of chocolate and walnuts. Delighted, he immediately grabbed a cookie and popped half of it in his mouth. He wondered when Sam had found the time to bake.

However, that wasn't the main present. Underneath the cookies, he found an Egyptian puzzle box. It was one he'd given Sam for Christmas several years ago. Well, he supposed this answered the question of whether or not she'd managed to solve it...

First, he studied it from all sides. Then he popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth and began to fiddle with it. It'd been a while since he'd solved a puzzle box, but he managed to figure it out eventually. Inside was exactly what he needed; Sam had certainly out-done herself.

He turned on the Asgard anti-surveillence device and picked up his cellphone. His first call was to the mountain. Vala picked up on the second ring.

"_Hello, Vala mal Doran here. Please tell me you have something to help relieve my boredom."_

Daniel chuckled. "Sorry, I'm afraid not. Although, you're welcome to some of my excitement; I have way too much of it."

"_Daniel! We heard about the masoleum blowing up. Are you alright?"_

Daniel sighed. "First of all, it was a museum, not a masoleum, and second, it didn't blow up, it was attacked. By a bunch of guys with even less fashion sense than the Goa'uld."

"_Oh, so not only unfashionable, but also insane. I mean, honestly, who makes it their goal in life to be less fashionable than the Goa'uld? Crazy people, that's who. I'm glad you weren't blown up."_

"Thank you, Vala, I am too. Listen, I struck out in Washington. Any news on your end?"

"_We got more words of doom and gloom from the Tok'ra. Apparently they got a look at the armada: at least five ships, but it looked like they may have run into some supply problems so their departure's been delayed. The Tok'ra aren't sure for how long, though."_

"Well, that's almost good news, I suppose. I... may have found something, but I'm not sure how much help it'll be." It required gate travel, after all.

"_Then keep working at it. If anyone can do it, you can. Go Daniel, ra, ra. And don't forget that you promised to bring me back a t-shirt."_

He shook his head. "Sure. Maybe I'll even manage to get the Avengers to sign it."

"_Oooh, that would be lovely. Just remember: kidnapping is bad. At least that's what Cameron keeps telling me."_

"Ehem, well, yes kidnapping _is_ bad. I definitely won't be doing any of that." He paused. "Listen I should go. I'll see you in five days."

"_Oh, well yes, alright then. I'll see you when you get back. Just don't forget the souveneirs."_

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Bye, Vala."

"_Bye, Daniel."_

He heard her hang up before he'd managed to find the right button on his phone. Then he sent a quick text to Sam: _Thanks for the cookies. :)_

He ran a hand through his hair as put his phone down and turned off the anti-surveillence device, closing the box after he was done. He noticed his suitcase had been delivered from his hotel room at some point in the morning (Tony had insisted last night he could have someone get it for him and since Daniel didn't actually have anything classified inside he gave Tony his key). The idea of a shower and fresh clothes was definitely appealing right now, so he was glad he'd said 'yes'.

His phone was ringing when he got out of the shower. He grimaced and answered.

"Hey, Jack," he said.

"_Daniel, what's this I hear about you and Cassie not spending the night in your hotel?"_

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Are you having someone follow us, Jack?" he asked slowly. He was supposed to be on vacation.

"_What? No. I mean, they're not following you... I just thought I'd have someone go check up on you after what happened at the museum. For all we know you were the target of that so-called heist."_

"You mean, other than the fact that no one was looking for me, that the bad guys never went anywhere near the Egyptian wing – which would've been the obvious placed to look for me given the date – and that they didn't look military or like anyone with the connections to know why I should be a potential target in the first place?"

"_Well, when you put it like that..."_

"Besides, I have a tracking chip embedded in my shoulder so don't tell me you don't know exactly where I am right now. And even if I didn't, whoever you sent to 'check up' on me could've just followed whoever Tony sent this morning to pick up my suitcase from the hotel. So what you're really asking is why are Cassie and I staying at Stark Tower?"

"_I thought it was called Avenger's Tower now?"_

"Not officially."

"_But the St-rk was never replaced; there's just a big 'A' there, which stands for neither 'Tony', nor 'Stark', nor, uh... 'Industries'."_

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jack, why are you calling?"

"_Look Daniel, I don't know how you managed to get yourself into Tony Stark's good graces–"_

"–He's friends with the Hulk. You know, big green guy who saved Cassie's life."

"_He's just a bit memorable, yes."_

"Well, apparently making friends with the Hulk makes you a friend of the Avengers. I met Doctor Bruce Banner, by the way, he's a really interesting guy: quiet, polite... pretty much the complete opposite of the Hulk in every way. I like him."

"_You like everyone, Daniel."_

"That's not true and you know it," Daniel snapped into the phone. "Just because I like giving people the benefit of the doubt when I first meet them doesn't mean I continue to like them all. The names Kinsley, Maybourne and Woolsley come to mind, not to mention the more obvious ones like Apophis, and Anubis, although I think 'dislike' is much too mild a word for those two."

"_Woolsley's not too bad."_

"He's also never accused you of helping the people who murdered your wife."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. He could hear Jack taking a deep breath.

"_Right, well, either way you need to be careful. The Avengers were affiliated with SHIELD, after all. In fact, three of them – including Captain America – are former SHIELD agents. For all we know–"_

"–Jack, you did _not_ just accuse Captain America of being Hydra. He and Black Widow were among the group of people who exposed Hydra's presence inside SHIELD, not to mention taking out those helicarriers. I've read the reports, Jack, and yes, we would've taken those helicarriers out before they could've been used as the global threat Hydra wanted to use them as, but not before hundreds, if not thousands, of people were dead!"

Daniel took a deep breath. Reading the reports had been a horrific experience. The extent of the damage caused by the helicarriers going down into the Potomac was minimal compared to the number of lives Hydra had planned to take. It didn't matter that he knew the Apollo could've blasted both helicarriers from orbit without so much as breaking a proverbial sweat, the very thought of what Hydra had accomplished and how close they'd been to achieving their goals made his blood freeze.

Thank god for Captain America. Wait. Daniel blinked, vaguely aware that Jack was talking in the background.

"Jack?"

"_What?!"_ Jack snapped, sounding annoyed. Had he figured out Daniel had been ignoring him?

"What's Captain America's real name?"

There was a pause during which he could picture Jack glaring at him through the phone. _"Steve Rogers."_

"Oh. Huh, I think I met him yesterday: he was at the museum."

"_Great Daniel, good for you."_

"Actually, I also found these Ancient tablets–"

"–_It's a museum, I'm pretty sure there are supposed to ancient tablets at a museum. Not that I ever looked for them. I sort of skipped ahead to the armour and swords – and the dinosaurs. Dinosaurs are cool."_

"No, listen Jack, that's not what I mean."

"_No, Daniel, _you_ listen. The Avengers are a grey area. We don't know what they are outside of SHIELD yet. And until we figure out whether or not Hydra managed to infiltrate the SGC, you need to stay away from anyone suspect."_

"Jack, Hydra has not infiltrated the SGC! Do you know how I know that? Because if Hydra had infiltrated the SGC they wouldn't have needed those goddamned helicarriers! If anyone involved is suspect it's the IOA. The World Council leader was Hydra, remember, and the IOA caved to him really easily when he asked them to let the Council and SHIELD deal with the New York crisis and the Chitauri invasion."

"_The helicarriers could've been a distraction..."_

"Distraction for what? They'd been lying patiently in wait for decades as they slowly grew and infiltrated their people into the right places. Exposing themselves too early wouldn't have been to their benefit at all. I may not be some great tactician, but even I can see that."

"_Right. I'll follow up with the IOA later. Always love giving those guys a hard time. I'll try talking to the President again and see if I can't get some of the restrictions lifted or eased off or something, but Daniel, I'm serious. It really doesn't matter what you or I think: the Avengers, and Tony Stark in particular, are a bit of a grey area with the government. Everyone involved is walking a fine line and you have enemies who'd love to use something like this to bury you, get you kicked out of the program... or worse."_

Daniel frowned. "Why Tony Stark in particular?"

"_He's unpredictable, brilliant and has this thing for sticking his nose where it shouldn't be. Now I have every confidence in Carter and her teams' security, but the NID and the Trust have managed to hack us before."_

Daniel winced and then closed his eyes, his night of insomnia catching up to him with a bone-deep exhaustion. "So, you're saying that if Tony managed to hack the SGC someone would try and make it look like I helped him."

Which would be treason. For him and anyone who could be accused of helping him. At least anyone affiliated with the SGC. That included Jack. Thankfully, Daniel had a reputation of going against orders and causing trouble all on his own, which meant that keeping Jack out of it would be easy enough so long as he didn't actually tell him anything.

"Thanks for the reminder, Jack. I can't just leave without causing suspicion, but I'll think about it. I should go, though. Didn't get much sleep last night."

"_Daniel, you're supposed to be on vacation! Don't make me call Cassie and tell her to make sure you eat and sleep."_

Daniel chuckled. "Don't worry, I ate both dinner last night and breakfast this morning. Was just too wired to sleep in-between."

"_Well, food is good, but make sure you sleep too."_

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother. I was actually about to take a nap."

"_Good, then I'll leave you to it while I go make the IOA sweat a little."_

"Have fun with that."

"_Youbetcha, Dannyboy. Talk to you later."_

"Bye, Jack."

He hung up and stared at the phone, taking a deep breath before placing it down carefully. He ran a hand through his hair. His plane left for Colorado Springs in four days. He had four days to come up with a plan. It would be difficult, but not impossible. Save maybe Sam, no one knew the project better than he did. But his friends, his team – with the exception of Vala – were all career military. He couldn't let them risk everything along with him. Sam had already done it once before, but she was busy. Earth needed her working on the shield more than he needed her as backup.

Daniel sat down and clenched his fist. The danger was too great and, as usual, no one was listening. He had a lead now, which might turn out to be nothing but held a potential for reward that made it worth following up on. He had to do _something_.

And it looked like he would have to do it alone.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Well, it looked like that nap wasn't going to happen after all.

* * *

><p>You have now come to the end of Act I, thanks for reading! There'll be a short interlude, probably published when I'm about half-way done writing Act II. Thank you for the reviewsfavourites on part ii. I will be replying to reviews, but I wanted to get this edited and posted first. :)


	5. First Interlude

**First Interlude**

Cameron Mitchell sighed as he dissected the casserole on his plate, idly trying to guess the cafeteria's mystery meat of the day. A tray banged onto the table across from him and he looked up to greet Vala, the other half of his currently much-diminished team. Not that having a full team would've accomplished much at the moment, other than having five bored people mulling about the base instead of two. Okay, three bored people mulling about the base – Sam and Daniel would've probably found something 'interesting' to do.

With orders against any gate travel the SGC was less 'SG' at the moment and more just 'C' and not even very much of that.

His eyes strayed down to Vala's tray and he blinked. "Hey Vala, you decide to skip the actual food part?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Vala looked to him in confusion before following his gaze to the three slices of pie sitting on her tray. "Oh, you mean the pie? Well, I've been told that it's apparently traditional on this planet to drown your depression in either alcohol or copious amounts of sugary things. Unfortunately they won't let me have alcohol on base, so I've had to go with sugary substances and I like pie better than ice cream."

She cut off a piece of blueberry pie and looked at it contemplatively for a moment. "Besides, there's a fruit-like substance in here and according to Daniel that counts."

Cameron rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Jackson ain't the one you should be takin' advice on nutrition from."

Vala popped the piece of pie in her mouth and shrugged. Cameron decided to give mystery meat a try and took a bite. Pork, he decided: it was probably pork. Probably. They sat in silence for a few moments, long enough for the subdued atmosphere around them to become properly suffocating.

"We should go visit your parents," said Vala suddenly.

Cameron chocked on some noodles. "Pardon me?"

Vala had another piece of pie on her fork and pointed it at Cameron. "Well, it's not like we're doing anything useful around here and your mom makes much better pie."

"You want to go visit my folks so that my mom can make you pie?"

She shrugged. "I like your mother. Although admittedly because she tells me funny stories about you and makes me pie."

Cameron groaned. "No, Vala, we can't go visit my folks. There could be an emergency here, we might be needed."

Vala raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. "Needed for what? To break up gambling rings?"

Cameron opened his mouth and then closed it with a sigh, knowing full well he had nothing to say to that. Tension on base had been steadily growing, folks getting restless – everyone knew there were a thousand things that needed doing and that list was only growing the longer the gate stayed silent. It wasn't quite a protest, but people were certainly becoming less subtle about their non-regulation activities.

"Maybe Jackson will get himself into trouble again and he'll need us to bail him out," he finally answered.

Vala seemed to consider that for a moment. "Alright, fine, I concede that Daniel does seem incredibly good at finding trouble in places there shouldn't be any."

"Like museums," Cameron grumbled.

He nearly jumped at the unexpected movement next to him as chairs were pulled out and Colonel Pettrelli and Lieutenant Colonel Donovan, the team leaders of SG3 and SG9 slid in next to him and Vala.

"So, what's the scoop?" Pettrelli asked without any sort of preamble.

"The scoop on what?" Cameron asked carefully.

"C'mon, we've all been waitin' to find out," said Donovan. His eyes slid over the room suspiciously before he leaned in closer to Cameron. "What's SG1 planning?"

"Uh...you think we're plannin' something?"

"Of course: it's traditional, right? The earth's in danger, brass and politicians aren't helping, so SG1 does something monumentally stupid, goes against orders, and ends up saving the world."

"Right, of course."

"Well, before we do anything, we'll have to wait for Daniel to come back," said Vala, a spark of excitement in her eyes that hadn't been there moments before.

The other two team leaders nodded solemnly. "Right, of course, Jackson," said Pettrelli. "Makes sense." Then he clapped Cameron on the back. "Well, whatever happens, we've got your backs. Anything you need, just let us know."

"Uh, okay. Thanks guys."

Donovan smiled and then the two of them took their trays and went to sit with their respective teams. Vala looked to Cameron. "What exactly do they expect us to do?"

Cameron shook his head. "I have no idea."

"But we _are_ going to do something, right?"

"Sounds like. I mean, like they said, we're SG1. Maybe Jackson'll have some ideas from talking to all those politicians when he gets back."

Vala raised an eyebrow at him in a very clear 'and when do you expect these flying pigs to arrive' gesture. Cameron grimaced.

"Or maybe he'll be annoyed and pissed off enough to feel like screwing orders and kicking some serious Ori butt," he allowed.

"Well I talked to him yesterday and he said he thought he might have something, but he wasn't sure what."

"I'm gonna hope it's a big honkin' space gun then."

"Ooh, if it is can we use it to blow up those stuffy, useless politicians?"

"_Vala._"

Vala blinked. "What?" she asked, popped a piece of pie into her mouth. "We could always just blame those hydrant people everyone seems to be so worried about."

Cameron let his fork drop into the middle of his casserole and cradled his head in his hands. He couldn't wait for Daniel to get back.

* * *

><p>Well, as promised I'm done writing parts 1 and 2 of Act II, so here's the short interlude. Thank you everyone on your tremendous support on this story so far: every review, subscription and favourite makes me smile. :)<p>

ATTENTION: This story will likely change titles when I post Act II. I honestly hate coming up with titles for my stories: by far my least favourite part of the writing process. But every story needs one in order to be posted. Usually I just wrack my brain until something somewhat suitable pops into my brain, but with this story I just couldn't come up with anything I liked and I've never entirely liked the one I eventually ended up using. Felt awkward and too clunky. I suddenly had an epiphany the other day while bored at work. I was rather annoyed at myself until I realized I actually _could_ change the title of the story. So yeah, watch out for the title change.


	6. Act II, pt i

Huge thank you to everyone who commented, favourited and subscribed to this story! I'm happy to see people enjoying it. :) You'll notice that, as warned, the story's title has changed.

And now, on to Act II! It's probably the least exciting act in the story, but necessary nonetheless. Quite a few things get set up and/or explained here, but as a result I've dubbed parts 1 and 2 "Conversations around a kitchen table" in my head (the second one isn't around a kitchen table, but whatever). And you're getting them both at once to not drag it out. Not that I think they're entirely uninteresting, but they're definitely a prelude to the actual exciting stuff that comes later.

* * *

><p>"I smell chocolate and walnuts," Daniel declared with a pleased smile as he entered the kitchen.<p>

"And meatballs, tomato sauce and pasta, I hope," said Sam, raising an eyebrow as he looked up from the stove, where he was standing over a large saucepan.

"Yeah, yeah, that too," Daniel waved him off as he bee-lined towards Cassie who was busy dropping balls of cookie dough onto a large cookie sheet and then flattening them with the bottom of a glass.

"This is for _after _lunch, Uncle Daniel," said Cassie when he came to look over her shoulder.

"But I'm on vacation," he whined.

"And coffee and chocolate are still not a food group."

Daniel huffed and poured himself some still-steaming coffee before going to join Steve, Natasha and Clint at the spacious kitchen table. "Some days, I think you take after your mother a little too much."

"My mom managed to intimidate ex-black ops Jack O'Neill and Uncle Murray, so _good_. I can only hope to do the same thing with my medical degree... once I have it and all."

"I almost feel sorry for the poor marines already. Except that, well, they're marines."

Sam burst out laughing. Daniel's eyes twinkled mischievously as he looked around the table. Natasha looked amused – in a way that reminded him of Teal'c as he'd been ten years ago – and Steve and Clint were chuckling.

"Your mom was a military doctor?" Sam asked Cassie.

"Air force," she answered with a nod. "Doctor Janet Fraiser: she was the CMO at the base where Daniel works."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Janet Fraiser? As in five foot nothing spitfire with brown hair and a look that made generals freeze before weeping in jealousy?"

"Yep, that sounds like Janet," Daniel answered, turning around in his seat. "You knew her?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I did my field medic training under her. Man, she was a slave-driver, but I sure learned a lot from her. The things she drilled into me stayed with me, and saved both my life and my patients' lives more times than I can count."

Daniel smiled. "Yeah, she was amazing like that."

Suddenly, Sam frowned, looking between the two of them. "Was?" he asked carefully.

Daniel glanced to Cassie, took in her still hands and tense shoulders. He waited, wondering if she would answer or leave it to him.

"KIA," Cassie finally whispered. She swallowed. "A couple of years ago. D-Daniel was there, he could probably tell you what happened."

"She was in the field?"

"Emergency medical evac," Daniel supplied, but refused to go on. Not here, not in front of Cassie. He knew that in some way she took comfort in knowing that thanks to Janet's sacrifice, there was a little girl in the world who would have the chance to know her father, but that didn't make the grief easier to bear. And she'd seen far too much of it for someone so young.

"I'm sorry for your loss," said Sam softly. "She was a wonderful person, one of the best."

Daniel looked down into the dark depths of his coffee cup. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie nod curtly and then hurry over to the oven when a timer went off. He took a deep drink of his coffee, savouring the hot bitter liquid on his tongue, let it wash away the sting of his own grief. Composed, he turned back to the rest of the table. The others looked back in a mixture of sympathy and understanding. He sighed, trying to think of some way to move the conversation onto a happier note.

Bruce did it for him when he walked into the kitchen. "You know, I think this is the first time this kitchen has smelt this good since I've lived here," he said.

"And that is a _sin_," said Sam. "An inexcusable sin, because this kitchen is awesome. Us mere mortals only dream of cooking in a kitchen like this."

"Must've cost a fortune too," Cassie added from where she was placing oven-fresh cookies onto a cooling rack. "Why bother when you're not going to use it?"

Bruce shrugged. "Tony never gets anything less than the best even if he's not using it."

"He was probably secretly hoping one of us cooked," said Natasha.

Clint snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that. I don't have the patience to read recepies, Natasha burns water and Steve grew up in the depression. The only one of us with any hope of being able to cook is Bruce."

"Well, you're not altogether wrong," said Bruce, looking amused. "I have learned quite a few dishes over the course of my travels, but it's not something I consider a hobby."

"Hm, if we're still here tonight, I can make some mujadarra for dinner," said Daniel thoughtfully.

"_If?_" said Clint. "You think that after handing Stark a brand new mysterious science project to play with he's going to just let you walk away? You'll be lucky if he lets you go home after your vacation's over."

Daniel chuckled. "Well then I suppose I should go out and get supplies."

"_If there is something you require, I will be happy to arrange for it to be delivered to the tower."_

"Thanks, JARVIS," said Daniel, looking in the direction of where he guessed at least one of the security cameras in the room was located. "But I was taught that gathering ingredients was just as much of a part of preparing the dish as the cooking itself. Besides, I have to go find some souvenirs anyway."

"_I understand, Daniel Jackson."_

Cassie put her now-empty bowl into the dishwasher. "Daniel doesn't cook often, but when he does it's totally worth it."

"Looking forward to it," said Sam. "Just to warn you though, super soldier over there's got a black hole in his stomach."

Steve's face took on a slightly pink hue. "It's the serum," he said.

Daniel nodded. "Ah, so you _are _Captain America. I thought so."

Steve nodded.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to find Cassie grinning down at him. "You figured it out all on your own, I'm impressed."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Don't you start. Just because I spent my childhood with my nose in historical texts and learning dead languages doesn't mean I don't know people who read comic books."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, like who?"

Daniel smirked. "Jack."

Her eyes widened. "Really? As in he read comic books in general or Captain America comic books specifically?"

"Um, not sure how many other comic books he might've read, but he definitely had a large Captain America collection, which he then gave to his son. Which he then gave to Murray to give to his son, Ryac."

"Wow, that's quite the, uh, journey those comic books have made. Do you know if Murray read them?"

Daniel shrugged. "If I'd come across Murray reading them by candlelight in his room at the base, I'm sure I would've been sworn to secrecy."

Cassie giggled. "I think I've figured out what I'm going to get him for Christmas."

"Whatever it is, you should get Steve to sign it for you," said Clint.

Cassie's eyes lit up and she looked to Steve. "Oooh, would you please?"

Steve smiled. "Sure, no problem."

"So, out of curiosity, just how accurate are the comic books?" Daniel asked. "I mean, obviously I'm not expecting most of them to be given how many of them there are, but I think I remember Jack saying that the first ones were published while you were still alive."

Steve nodded. "I saw the first few editions after they came out." He shrugged. "They got the basics right. I was a skinny, sickly kid from Brooklyn who tried to lie his way into the army because I wanted to help protect my country same as everyone else. Then I got lucky because Abraham Erskin saw me and offered me the chance. Still don't know how he knew, but he'd somehow figured out what I'd been up to, lying on my recruitment papers and all. I was injected with the super serum, Erskin was assassinated and then I spent nearly a year as a dancing monkey on a war bonds tour."

"Sorry, you must get sick of repeating the story," said Daniel quietly.

Steve gave him a sort of half-smile. "A little bit. The Jeffersonian did a pretty good job with their exhibit."

"Hm, I'll have to go see it next time I'm in Washington."

"Weren't you just in Washington?" Cassie asked him.

"Yes, and yes, I did go to the Jeffersonian, but Jack wasn't with me so I got to skip all the twentieth century military exhibits."

The oven timer beeped and Cassie just shook her head as she went to swap a sheet of baked cookies for a sheet of unbaked ones. Daniel looked to Steve apologetically.

"Sorry, it's not that I don't think your contribution to history wasn't important or significant– "

Steve waved his apologies away. "Cassie already explained it to me. I'm less than two thousand years old, therefore that apparently makes me too young for you." His eyes twinkled in amusement. "Quite frankly I spend enough time feeling too old in this century, so being 'too young' is a nice change."

Daniel chuckled. "Fair enough. So you'll forgive me then for asking why there aren't more super soldiers out there. Given that it was a military-funded project in the first place, I would've expected it to have continued once they'd managed a successful experiment."

"Oh they did," Bruce answered him. "But no one's been able to recreate the results. The Hulk is actually the result of that research."

"Huh, a bit of an extreme result though."

"And yet, believe it or not, one of the more successful ones."

Daniel's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Bruce shrugged. "Well I haven't died because my DNA has destabilized nor have I suddenly regressed and developed genetic abnormalities and defects, so yes, marginally successful."

"The Hulk is also significantly less of a monster than the Abomination," Natasha added quietly.

"Yeah, but Emil Blonsky wasn't exactly the paragon of sanity _before_ he was injected with the serum," Clint pointed out.

Daniel frowned. "But our science and understanding of genetics in particular has come a long way since the 1940s."

Bruce shrugged. "It's widely believed in the scientific community that Doctor Abraham Erskin did some last-minute adjustments to the formula the night before the experiment, but never wrote them down. You have to remember that, while constrained by the technology of his day, Erskin was leagues beyond everyone else in his field and had an intuitive understanding of genetics that most scientists today can't boast."

Daniel nodded thoughtfully.

"Erskin said the serum was designed to enhance a person's qualities: good became great and bad became evil," Steve added quietly.

Daniel frowned. "That doesn't sound very scientific. I mean, aren't 'good' and 'evil' defined by human culture and understanding in the first place? For instance, to early Christians demons were messengers, middle-men between Heaven and the earthly realm and in the Middle Ages that definition changed to mean the dark and malevolent creatures of Hell."

"I-I'm not sure..." said Steve, looking taken aback. "I know that other than me, the Red Skull was the only other successful super soldier and he was nothing less than pure evil."

"Then the serum is like a weapon: hand a bad man a gun and he'll kill people, hand a good man a gun and he'll protect them. Your goal from the start was to fight for your country, to protect people. His was to create the perfect Aryan race and then the serum made him stronger, faster and maybe smarter than any human: the highest point of human evolution that he could conceive of. I don't think you really need a genius to figure out what was going to happen to the two of you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Natasha nod thoughtfully. "Absolute power corrupts absolutely," she said.

Daniel hoped his internal flinch wasn't noticeable. He took a breath and let it out.

"That doesn't really change the fact that Red Skull and Steve are the only two successful super soldiers in existence," Bruce pointed out.

"Three," Natasha corrected him quietly.

Daniel saw her exchange looks with Steve, saw raw grief flash across his face for a moment, before it was smothered beneath a neutral facade. He looked away, to where Cassie was carefully beginning to arrange a mountain of cookies onto a large red ceramic platter. He considered the problem as he watched her move the cookies one by one with a spatula.

"Yeah, three," Steve agreed quietly. "Although the Winter Soldier was Zola's masterpiece. He might not have been created with the same serum."

Natasha acknowledged his point with a nod of her head.

"The Winter Soldier?" Bruce asked.

"We'll explain later," Steve told him.

"What if you've been going about it the wrong way?" Daniel suddenly asked, his head still turned towards Cassie although his eyes not really seeing her. "What if it wasn't Erskin's formula that made the difference?"

There was a moment of silence. "What do you mean?" Bruce asked with a puzzled frown.

"It was just Erskin's formula and Howard Stark's vita rays," said Steve with an equally puzzled frown.

Daniel turned around and looked Steve in the eyes. "And you," he said simply.

He turned to Bruce. "What if Erskin got lucky in choosing Steve, not entirely realizing he'd hit a sort of genetic jackpot? I mean, the man died right after the experiment so we really have no idea whether any subsequent attempts would've been successful even for him."

"A genetic anomaly," Bruce breathed, understanding lightening his face.

"Are there any samples of Steve's blood from before the serum?" Natasha asked after a moment's pause.

Bruce shook his head. "No. That's been one of the biggest hampers on the research all along, that we have no way of comparing how exactly the serum changed his blood. There are some odd genetic markers in his DNA now, but it's difficult to tell whether they were there before or not. Admittedly, when Betty and I had been conducting our research on the serum with the blood samples we had, we just generally assumed that anything unusual was a result of the serum itself..."

Bruce trailed off, although it was clear his mind was still busy processing. Clint began to grin after a few moments of silence.

"I think you might've just blown his mind, Doctor Jackson," he said.

Natasha's lips quirked slightly, but then she looked to Daniel with a curious expression. "Do you have any idea of what sort of genetic anomaly we're talking about here?"

Daniel shrugged. "Sorry. I'm good at brainstorming and throwing out ideas, but this is generally the part where I sit back and let the experts in the field take over."

"It sounds like a pretty good guess though," said Clint. "What do you think, Cap?"

Steve looked like he'd bitten into a lemon. "I'm not entirely sure."

Sam suddenly appeared with a stack of pasta plates. "Whatever," he said, placing them down in front of Steve with a clear gesture to distribute them. "Me, I'm not entirely sure I want more super soldiers running around the world. And I'm pretty sure we've got bigger problems than unlocking the secrets of the super soldier formula. Hey JARVIS, could you let the others know lunch is being served?"

"_Of course, Mister Wilson, it will be my pleasure."_

"Thanks man."

"_You're very welcome."_

Daniel smiled at the amusement in the AI's voice as he took the utensils Cassie set in front of him and began to distribute them. Several minutes later, Phil Coulson, Skye and May entered the kitchen, a disgruntled-looking Tony Stark trailing behind them. He stopped just inside the kitchen and blinked.

"It smells like food in here," he said.

"That's what a kitchen's supposed to smell like," said Sam dryly. "Now stop gaping and find a seat."

"Are we going to all fit?" Coulson asked, eyeing the table warily. It was a large table, true enough, but it didn't look nearly large enough to fit them all.

"There's a dining room just down the hall," said Tony, looking at the table with a similar look of distrust.

"We'll just get Captain America to squish up and there'll be plenty of room for everyone," said Sam.

Steve rolled his eyes.

"No, seriously though," Sam continued. "I've seen that dining room: it's all crystal chandelier, fancy wooden table with gold trim and paintings on the wall. I feel like I need to be wearing a suit and tie just to walk into the damn room and I am _not _wearing a suit and tie for spaghetti and meatballs! We're eating in here."

Tony raised an eyebrow in amusement and then went to find a sliver of room at the kitchen table. Lunch was a loud, boisterous affair with light-hearted conversation. And a few thrown meatballs, but that was quickly put a stop to by Natasha, who stared both Clint and Tony down until they popped the meatballs they were holding into their mouths and picked up their forks again. Bruce and Daniel ignored them as they compared stories of their travels around the world.

When the last of them (Steve) had finally finished eating – he'd learned to stop feeling embarrassed by how much he consumed and so was able to easily roll his eyes at Tony's comments. Especially once Cassie told Tony to knock it off and threatened to withhold cookies if he didn't.

"So, Daniel, you seem to have spent a lot of time in the desert," Steve heard Coulson say when they'd sat back down after having cleared the table.

"Yes, I have," Daniel answered. A small, wistful smile appeared on his face and Steve felt his own heart echo the longing in the other man's eyes. "Some of the happiest times of my life were spent in the desert. It's beautiful."

On the other side of the table, Tony shivered. "I only like sand when there's a beach attached," he said before taking a long drink of his coffee.

Daniel shrugged.

"Is that where you died?" Coulson asked.

Tony sprayed coffee all over Bruce, causing enough commotion that likely no one but Steve heard Cassie's soft gasp as she paled, her eyes widening in horror. Daniel froze momentarily, but quickly shrugged off his surprise and looked to Couslon with narrowed eyes.

"Where I died?" he repeated. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I _do_ have a pulse."

Coulson smiled blandly at him, his eyes sharp. "And yet you were declared dead by the military."

"Obviously, that was done in error."

"And you didn't notice for an entire year?"

Steve looked to Natasha and saw her watching Daniel carefully. "I was out of the country and didn't notice until I got back."

"Hm. And the second time?"

"Second time?" Tony asked, his voice still a little hoarse from his coughing fit. "What exactly are you saying: that he's a zombie with pulse-control issues? Also, like you can talk: you're still officially dead."

Steve heard Clint snort and out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Natasha's lips quirk in amusement. Coulson's expression didn't change, his eyes still locked on Daniel. Who was meeting his eyes straight-on, the friendly, mild-mannered man gone and replaced with a hardness Steve recognized. Now he looked like a soldier, someone hardened by experience. Beside him, Cassie was pale and visibly shaking with nerves, but clearly trying to keep a brave face on. Her hands weren't visible, but one of them was angled forward just enough for him to be able to imagine it clutching her uncle's for support.

"What I'm saying is that most people don't get more than one funeral, let alone three," said Coulson.

"And I don't see how that's any business of yours," said Daniel.

Now Coulson's lips curled into a bland smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I tend to make things my business."

Daniel looked at him for a moment and then his gaze swept over to Skye next to him and May, who hadn't sat down again, but was leaning against the kitchen counter just out of his line of sight. Steve wondered if this was his subtle way of pointing out that he was aware of what they were doing. Daniel's gaze returned to Coulson, his eyes sharper than before.

"You weren't at the museum by accident," he said, and it wasn't a question. "Who are you?"

"Phil Coulson, I believe we've already been introduced."

"No, that's your name." Daniel paused for a moment. "Who are you? If you were NID this charade wouldn't be necessary. The Trust wouldn't be bothered playing games like this. The CIA generally stays out of our way and we're on pretty good terms with the Russians these days, although I suppose you can never be completely sure."

"We're not Russian. We're SHIELD."

Daniel raised an eyebrow at the response.

"What's Project Blue Book?" Skye suddenly asked.

"Classified," Daniel snapped, his expression darkening. His gaze swept around the table. "So was all of this an elaborate set-up? Were all of you at the Met just to get to me?"

Clint sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Nat and I were, although not with these guys," he said, gesturing vaguely towards Coulson and his people. "Steve and Sam were honestly just taking the day off to go to the museum, and Tony and Bruce didn't even know any of us were in town."

Daniel nodded and some of the tension left his shoulders, although he was clearly still on his guard. Steve sympathized with him; he remembered vividly what it had been like when the Triskellion had gone from being a safe haven to enemy territory within the blink of an eye.

"We know you work on Project Blue Book," said Coulson calmly.

"Yeah, I figured as much," said Daniel dryly. "You wouldn't be asking me otherwise."

"We know about the SGC," Skye tried again.

Daniel looked at her and then smirked. "No, you don't. You wouldn't be asking me if you did." His face smoothed out and he looked back to Coulson. "You may have looked at what you could find of the personnel roster and decided that the head geek was a weak link you could exploit, but I've been intimidated and questioned by people far more terrifying than you are. So unless you plan to go through with the threat of those knives May's holding, we're done here."

"Hey, uh, yeah that's not going to happen," Tony interjected. He glared at Coulson. "Agent, I like you, but I've gotten really good at ejecting unwanted SHIELD agents and since that whole Washington kerfuffle, I've added a few extra features to my security. Daniel is my _guest_." A beat passed. "Also, Bruce's eyes are turning green."

All eyes were instantly on Doctor Banner, whose eyes were indeed glowing bright green – and several green veins stood out prominently on his neck.

"Dammit," he said though clenched teeth before standing and rushing out of the room.

"Is he okay?" Daniel asked, sounding worried.

"Yeah, he's fine," said Tony. "The Other Guy's been pretty close to the surface ever since Bruce had to go back on the run after SHIELD fell and Ross was able to start coming after him again. Bruce'll get it under control again, it just takes time."

Daniel nodded. "And the Hulk's understandably afraid that if he gets comfortable in safety again, that it'll just be snatched away from him. It's probably his way of keeping an eye on you to make sure you're here and safe."

Tony stared at him. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

Daniel shrugged. "It's a perfectly natural reponse."

"Daniel," Natasha said gently. Daniel looked to her, his expression wary. "The world's in danger, isn't it?"

"The world's always in danger," he answered. "Too many hotheads with weapons that do too much damage."

"True, but that's not what I meant." She paused and Steve could watch her assessing Daniel. Daniel looked back at her calmly, waiting. Steve was certain he forgot to breathe for a few moments. And then Natasha blinked and in the split-second it took for her eyes to open and close, her demeanor changed. Her face became blank, her eyes just a little duller, everything about her just a little sharper.

She became Natasha Romanov, deadly assassin. For most people, this would be getting into character, but Steve knew that for her, this was the truth. It was everything else that was the mask.

"I was looking for something in the Pentagon last week and overheard an interesting conversation," she said. "What are the Ori?"

Daniel blinked. "Classified," he said after a pause, sounding much less hostile than he had when speaking to Coulson. In fact, he almost sounded regretful. Beside him, Cassie looked confused.

So it seemed she knew something about the project Daniel and her mother had been working on, but not nearly everything. Or maybe nothing current. Although, if Daniel had really had several funerals, then she'd probably been to them. Steve suddenly felt bad for having been a part of dredging up those memories for her.

"You know we specialize in saving the world," said Clint softly. "If the world's in danger, we want to help save it. It's what we do."

Daniel took a deep breath. "Thank you. I – let me think about it." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe I'll go get my shopping done this afternoon. There are a few things I need to consider."

"And souvenirs to buy," Cassie added.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Yes, God forbid I forget to bring Vala her souvenirs."

Cassie giggled, although there was a slight hysterical edge to it. Steve smiled at her reassuringly. Whatever was going on, she at least was a civilian, blameless except by association. And Daniel... Daniel at least hadn't lied to them. Steve could respect that; he'd run covert missions both during the war and in the twenty-first century. Perhaps not in this case, not when so much seemed to be at stake, but then again he also didn't know any details.

"Well, then I guess I'll see you all later," Daniel said as he stood.

"Yeah, later man," said Sam. "I'll be looking forward to that, uh, mujapiri or whatever it was called."

"Mujadarra," Daniel corrected with an amused smile. "It's an Egyptian green lentil dish. A worker on one of the digs I was on once showed me how to make it."

"Green lentils?" Tony asked. He made a face. "That sounds healthy. I'm not sure I want to be a part of that."

"We promise there'll be more cookies," said Cassie.

Tony grinned. "My hero."

No one said a word until they heard the elevator doors close.

"JARVIS?" Tony asked.

"_Doctor Jackson and Cassandra Fraiser are both currently on their way to their rooms, sir."_

May walked up to the table to stand beside Coulson. "Are we really just going to let them go?"

"Yes," Steve answered her. "We are."

"He's testing us," Natasha added, sounding like she approved.

"Yeah, we might've saved New York, but he hasn't really got any reason to trust us," said Clint.

"But what if he contacts his superiors?" Skye asked. "He's gotta know a few people who'd love to know where we are."

Coulson nodded. "It's why I sent Trip back to the quinjet this morning. Just in case we need to call for an extraction."

"I'd say he's got good cause not to trust you," said Tony with narrowed eyes aimed at Couslon. "Right now I sort of trust him more than I trust you, but then again I know all about the bugs you planted in his room. Also, were you planning on telling us about the tablet?"

"_Sir, if I may interrupt: Doctor Jackson took a call earlier today from an individual he called 'Jack'."_

"That'll probably be Lieutenent General Jack O'Neill," said Natasha.

"Again," Clint added.

"I take it you recorded the conversation, JARVIS?" Coulson asked.

"_Indeed, Director Coulson, I did. Regrettably, however, I was unable to discern most of the caller's side of the conversation."_

That was when Bruce walked back into the kitchen. He looked around the table, his expression darkening at the empty seats. "Where's Daniel?" he asked.

"Don't worry, he and Cassie went out to do some shopping," Steve assured him.

"Alone?"

"Yes, alone," Coulson confirmed. "It's an act of faith on our part, to prove that we can be trusted."

"Well, as alone as anyone can be in the middle of downtown Manhattan with hundreds of video cameras JARVIS can hack into and monitor," said Tony. "You'll let us know if our friend Danny does anything strange, right J?"

"_Of course, sir."_

"Excellent! Have a seat Brucie, and J, hit us with that phone conversation."


	7. Act II, pt ii

MOVEMENT

Natasha reclined casually on the couch, reading Harry Potter. It was an effective way to keep an eye on Coulson and his newest agent, Skye, who had each claimed themselves a large padded armchair and were tapping away at their laptops. Agent May was in the gym with Steve and Sam, and Clint had vanished. He was probably napping somewhere.

The elevator chimed from down the hall. Natasha turned the page. Across from her, Director Coulson barely twitched. Skye froze and looked up, craning her neck towards the hallway, from where they could hear footsteps approaching along with the rustling of shopping bags.

"Welcome back, Doctor Jackson," Coulson called to him without taking his eyes off the screen.

She heard Daniel pause in front of the kitchen door and finally looked up. He was holding a large canvas bag in one hand that looked like it was stuffed to the brim with groceries – Natasha could see tomatoes gleaming orange-red on the top of the pile – and several regular white plastic bags in the other printed with logos she couldn't make out because of the creases and waves in the bag.

"Thank you, Director Coulson," said Daniel. "Hello, Skye, Natasha."

Natasha nodded to him in greeting, before turning back to her book. She'd perfected the art of reading while watching someone a long time ago.

"Your niece isn't with you?" she heard Coulson ask.

"No, she got a text from a university friend who lives in New York. Turns out she's leaving to go visit her grandparents in Portland tomorrow, so they decided to meet up for dinner and drinks this evening."

"That's convenient."

"Hm, yes actually it is. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to put the food into the kitchen."

Natasha hid her smile. Whether or not the story was real didn't entirely matter; Daniel had convinced Cassie to stay away from the tower for the evening, which meant that either he didn't want to put her in danger by revealing classified information around her, or else he wanted to keep her out of the line of fire when he refused to. Either way, he clearly wasn't concerned for his own safety. Knowing he had a tracker chip embedded beneath his skin, it made sense, because the Air Force could find him anywhere. Having Cassie out of the tower also gave her the freedom to call 'Uncle Jack' should he need her to. Natasha wondered if they'd worked something out. Was Daniel going to call her or send her a text letting her know if things went smoothly?

It was a simple strategy, but if the Avengers or SHIELD wanted to go after Cassie they'd be doing so in public, with witnesses. Natasha enjoyed being right, and Doctor Daniel Jackson was turning out to be quite the interesting person indeed.

After ten minutes of movement in the kitchen, Daniel emerged again and headed up to his room to deposit the rest of his purchases.

A few minutes later, a freshly-showered Sam came out of the elevator. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "Give up already?" she asked him, idly turning a page.

"Yeah, I think I'm done trying to keep up with a super soldier for the day," he said as he eased himself into the armchair next to Natasha's couch. "Also, there's something really weird about watching you read a children's book."

"It was in Stark's library and I remember Clint saying once that I should read it."

"And? What do you think?"

"There are too many children in it."

Sam laughed. "Well, yeah, that's sort of the point."

Steve and Agent May came down from the gym an hour later, smiling and relaxed. Even Coulson raised an eyebrow at the easy camaraderie that seemed to have suddenly sprung up between them as they headed into the kitchen for water (and probably food, in Steve's case). Daniel had already come back down again and was in the kitchen, creating a plethora of delicious smells. Sam and Skye had joined him and the sounds of pots and pans were accompanied by occasional laughter.

The elevator dinged just as the other end of the couch dipped under Steve's weight, glass of orange juice in one hand a plate containing a sandwich in the other. Natasha frowned, listening closely as the sound of wheels and sharp, precise taps of two sets of high heels exited the elevator. She closed her book and set it onto the end table beside her as she slid her legs around to sit upright.

If Pepper Potts was at all surprised by the amount of people in her living room, she didn't show it. Beside her, Maria Hill looked equally unsurprised, although her eyes widened when she noticed Agent May relaxing by the kitchen doorway, and then scanned the room until she found Coulson's back.

Pepper's eyes scanned the group and smiled pleasantly. "Hello, I didn't know Tony had anyone over," she said, the question clear in her voice. Her smile became a bit more genuine when she saw Natasha. "It's good to see you again, Natasha."

Natasha smiled. "It's good to see you too, Pepper. We were a bit unexpected by everyone, including each other. We just happened to meet at the Met yesterday before it was attacked."

Pepper frowned slightly. "Yes, I heard about that. I'm glad you were there to stop those idiots from doing too much damage."

"So are we," Steve readily agreed. "It would've been a shame for anything to have been damaged." Pepper's eyes snapped to the blond and he stood with a friendly smile and walked around the coffee table to hold out his hand in greeting. "Steve Rogers, ma'am."

Her eyes widened slightly in recognition. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Captain," she said with a warm smile as she shook his hand.

"You as well, Ms. Potts." He let go of her hand and stepped away. "Maria, I'm glad you're doing well," he then said with a nod to the former deputy-director.

"Hello Steve," Maria Hill said with a quirk of her lips. "What exactly were you doing at the museum yesterday?"

Steve shrugged. "Attempting to take a day off. Apparently, Sam's mom thought we needed one."

"Ah, that's right, he has family in Harlem, doesn't he?"

"Yes he does."

Maria Hill nodded and then looked to the back of Coulson's head. "And I suppose I should congratulate you on your promotion, Director."

As though waiting for his cue, Coulson smoothly stood up and turned to the two women with a polite smile. "Thank you, Maria. I hear the military's finally stopped hounding you."

"Yes, they have."

The suitcase Pepper had been pulling behind her clattered to the ground. "Phil?" she said, shock written across her face.

After the emotional reunion, after Pepper had introduced herself to the people in the kitchen and left to find Tony – no doubt to give him a piece of her mind about failing to mention Coulson's not-quite-dead status and the team of super heroes and spies staying at the tower – Maria Hill grabbed Coulson and dragged him to the side of the room. It was far enough from the kitchen to not be overheard, but still within Natasha and Steve's hearing.

"I didn't think involving the Avengers was a part of your plan?" she said calmly. It wasn't quite a demand.

Coulson shrugged. "It was a last-minute decision," he said. "Romanov and I happened to be after the same target and then Cap made first contact with him without even realizing it. I could've pulled back, but then we would've lost the target."

Hill frowned. "And where's the target now?"

"In the kitchen making dinner."

Hill blinked and then frowned. "Your target is in Stark's kitchen making dinner."

"Some sort of Egyptian green lentil dish, apparently."

Hill brought a hand up to rub at one of her temples. "Does this target know he's a target?"

"He's guessed as much."

"Great. And naturally, he's probably a security risk Stark didn't bother telling me about."

"Tony has JARVIS monitoring him and he's probably not dangerous so long as we don't provoke him," said Natasha.

Hill looked at her wryly. "I really wish that was as comforting as it sounds like it should be." She shook her head and looked between them. "Who's the target?"

"An Air Force civilian consultant named Doctor Daniel Jackson," Coulson replied smoothly, but Natasha had known him long enough to detect the glint of speculation in his eyes as he watched Maria Hill's reactions. "We're investigating him and the project he's working on for possible ties to Hydra." He paused and then, almost casually, asked: "Have you ever heard of Project Blue Book?"

Hill's reaction was instantaneous. Her eyes snapped up to Coulson's and she paled. "Leave Project Blue Book alone, Coulson."

Coulson exchanged a look with Agent May. "So you've heard of it."

"Yes, and no I don't know a lot of particulars." Hill paused and looked around. "Fury knew more, but he kept the information close to his chest. I asked him once and he said they were dealing with things that didn't concern SHIELD and he was happy to leave them to it, because he had enough problems of his own. I _do_ know that they take their security very seriously. There've been rumours about people disappearing after getting their hands on leaked information about the project."

Natasha looked to Steve, who looked back with a worried expression.

"I've heard those rumours too," Coulson agreed. "We're trying to figure out if the project has any ties to Hydra."

"I... I suppose it's possible. Like I said, I don't know exactly what they're up to down there, but I do know it's multi-disciplinary in a way no other US military project has ever been and in recent years they've come to agreements of co-operation with foreign governments, including the Russians and Chinese. They've also been snatching experts and scientists from all over the world, to the point that SHIELD had been having a difficult time recruiting recently. It's probably at least partially how Hydra managed to get so many of their own people into SHIELD."

"Really?" Coulson blinked in surprise. "I wasn't aware we were having recruitment issues."

Hill shrugged. "It wasn't a major cause for concern yet, but slightly unsettling for the future."

"Hm, well I had one of my insiders look into potential links between Project Blue Book and Hydra and they came up with nothing. In fact, they said they had to stop asking around because they were afraid they were actually bringing the project to the attention of Hydra's higher ups."

"Just be careful, Phil," she said. Then she smirked. "And good luck, Director."

"Thank you."

Maria Hill was half-way to the elevator when she turned around again. "Oh, and tell Mockingbird to look me up once she'd done with her assignment; we haven't done a martini and spa night in a while."

Coulson made a pained face. "And that right there was more information than I wanted to know. I'll be sure to pass on the message."

* * *

><p>Daniel insisted on dinner first.<p>

It wasn't a stalling technique as such. Nor did he truly need more time to gather his thoughts. Yes, part of him was still unsure of the wisdom of betraying the SGC (for he was nothing if not honest and he couldn't bring himself to call this anything less than a betrayal to all those who had lived and breathed and bled with him beneath the mountain), but another part of him couldn't think of a better way. And he wasn't going to give them the whole truth, only what was necessary. He would go through with his plans alone if he had to – in fact it would probably be easier – but there was at least one of them whose help he suspected he might need.

He sat at a table – this time the one in the dining room, because Pepper Potts was a _very_ persuasive woman who didn't take foolishness lightly – with a group of people who would no doubt react strongly to what he had to tell them. And dinner was not the place for strife; his Abydonian family had taught him that. Though he'd been with them for only a year, he held dear the lessons they'd taught him.

Kasuf's number one rule was that any arguments, any grievances were left behind when they sat down to share food and drink. Only when the food had been cleared away were they allowed to once again be taken out. Sha're had also embraced that rule and Daniel attempted to do the same whenever he could.

People were always so much happier after a good, warm-hearted meal.

And so he waited until food and dishes from dinner had been cleared away and stacked into the dishwasher and the mound of pastries he'd purchased at a little middle-eastern bakery were set out onto the table along with coffee, tea and wine. Even then, he waited until a sizable dent had been made into the pastries and Pepper Potts – having most likely sensed the underlying anxious tension – yawned loudly and declared she was going to head off to bed early.

Daniel followed her out and detoured into the kitchen, where he re-filled his coffee, needing the bitter warmth and caffeine infusion to give him strength. Then he grabbed the Target bag he'd placed next to the doorway and took out the item inside.

"What's that?" Clint asked when Daniel walked into the dining room with it.

Daniel held it up. "An Egyptian puzzle box," he said and then placed his coffee cup down and began to solve it. A few minutes passed, during which the Avengers watched him intently.

"I'm developing a new appreciation for the Ancient Egyptians," said Skye. "That's like the ancient equivalent of an electronic lock."

"Yeah, an electronic lock that needs a secret handshake to open," Sam added.

"I could probably build an electronic lock like that," said Tony thoughtfully.

Finally, Daniel got it open and took out the small device inside. It was made of dark metal and looked a bit like a high-tech mushroom. Tony practically surged out of his seat to get a closer look.

"That had better not be a bomb," said Agent May as she eyed the device.

Daniel chuckled. "No, it's not." He looked up. "JARVIS, I'm sorry, but I can't risk this conversation being recorded in any way. This isn't going to harm you or anyone else and we'll still be able to hear you. All anyone has to do to talk to you is go into the hall."

"_Understood, Doctor Jackson."_

Daniel pressed down and a row of small red lights came on.

"Daniel, what is it?" Steve asked, looking at the device warily. His tone wasn't hostile, but it was firm, unwilling to back down until he had an answer.

"It's an anti-surveillance device," said Daniel. "Basically we're now in a bubble that no one, whether in person, or via electronics, can see or hear into. I mean, they can physically see us if they're for instance, standing out in the hall, but they wouldn't be able to read lips or emotions."

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "That's handy. And it doesn't disrupt the surveillance?"

"No, any microphones and/or cameras in the room are still working just fine. They just won't be able to pick up anything."

"Okay, I'm just a bit jealous," said Clint. "Pressing a button sounds way easier than searching a room from top to bottom for bugs."

"No kidding," said Steve. "Does it work for phone taps?"

Daniel thought about that for a moment. "I don't see why not... although I'm not a hundred percent sure it's been tested for that."

A thoughtful silence followed. Tony was the first to break. "Okay, Dannyboy, we gave you time, now what's the big secret?" he asked, doing a very bad job of pretending to be asking only out of boredom. Daniel winced at the nickname.

"Wait," Sam interrupted whatever Daniel was going to answer. He met Daniel's eyes seriously. "Just so we're all clear about this: we're talking treason here, right? I know a bit about how some of these confidentiality agreements work and by telling us, you're committing treason, right?"

Daniel paused and then nodded slowly. "Yes, after this is all over and they find out I've told you I could be arrested and then executed for treason."

The silence that followed was deafening. Tony and Skye seemed to be the only ones shocked by the news, the others nodding at the news in grim, unhappy silence.

"They won't seriously execute you if you end up saving the world, will they?!" said Skye, her eyes wide. Daniel smiled at her; he almost remembered being that young.

Daniel shrugged noncommittally. "No I don't think they'll actually execute me, not if my actions end up saving the world..." His lips quirked into a wry smile. "Generals don't like looking like idiots and tend to be willing to retrospectively bend rules or impose slap-on-the-wrist punishments if they want to cover up how much you've upstaged them."

"Better to ask forgiveness than permission," said Steve with a nod. "They did the same thing after I saved the 107th: cut orders for the mission and then suddenly promoted me to a full captain despite the fact that I was completely unqualified."

Sam blinked and looked at his friend. "You weren't a captain?"

Steve looked to him in amusement. "Captain America was a stage name. How exactly do you think I managed to get the field experience to become an officer while prancing on stage selling war bonds? I'd only barely made it through boot-camp when I was injected."

Sam opened his mouth to protest and then closed it. "Huh. I'd never thought about it like that. Wow. I guess it's real lucky you were hiding a tactical genius under that serum-enhanced physic."

Steve shrugged. Daniel chuckled.

"Either way, I'll manage," he said. "I've made a few enemies over the years, but I have allies as well and I've been with the program since pretty much the beginning. I may not be indispensable, but I don't think I'm someone they can afford to just throw away either. Besides, it's not like you're going to just let it go, is it?"

Skye had the decency to look chagrined. She looked to Coulson, who cooling stated "No, we're not."

Daniel nodded and he placed his coffee cup down on the table before folding his hands over each other and leaning on them as he looked around the table, his face determined and brooking no place for argument.

"You should know that there's still a big 'if' in front of 'saving the world' at this point. I don't entirely know what I've found yet. I mean, whatever it is, it'll no doubt be a remarkable find, but whether or not it'll hold the key to saving Earth is another matter entirely."

"But you have an idea of what you've found," said Bruce, his eyes sharp.

Daniel grinned. "Probably more than you do to be honest."

Tony scoffed. "I highly doubt that."

"So you haven't found a rough description of a device that takes power from the exact zero point of space then? A theoretically endless supply of energy?"

Tony froze, his eyes slowly narrowing. "Theoretically, yes. Your friends seem to be keeping you well-informed."

"Well, I've sort of had front-row seats to a lot of their discoveries. Also, it helps that one of my closest friends is the former head of R&D at Area 51."

"Area 51," said Clint. "Area 51 is actually a thing?!"

"I have clearly not been digging deep enough into government records," said Tony.

Steve sighed. "What exactly is Area 51?"

"It's the Holy Grail of all conspiracy theorists," Skye answered him, her eyes wide and becoming more excited by the second. "Where all the top-secret projects and experiments the military doesn't want anyone to know about hide. Where they have alien corpses and half-dissected alien spaceships and weird mutant strains of killer bees and illegal cloning programs and..."

Skye trailed off as she noticed the way everyone was looking at her.

"Someone was definitely an X-Files fan," Clint muttered.

"After everything you've seen at SHIELD, should you really be getting this excited about Area 51?" Coulson asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"Er, no, probably not." Skye looked sheepish for a moment. "But it's _Area 51_! Do you realize how many people I've known over the years who would give their firstborn just for confirmation that it exists?"

Daniel cleared his throat. "So, for the record, Area 51 is tech only, so sorry but no alien corpses. Or mutant killer bees. And no alien spaceships either." He waited for a beat. "I'm pretty sure they moved those elsewhere. There might be _pieces_ of alien spaceships, but nothing recognizable."

"You are enjoying this way too much," Tony grumbled.

Daniel grinned. "Yeah, just a bit."

Then he sighed, the grin sliding from his face. He brought a hand up to rub at his temple. There was a dull throbbing starting up behind his eyes: between lack of sleep and stress, it was difficult to tell which was the exact cause. Probably a combination of both. He tried to remember if he'd brought his Goa'uld hand device-strength pain killers with him.

"Sorry," he said. "That was getting a bit ahead of myself there." He took a deep breath and looked back to his avid audience. "Okay, so this is a bit out of order, but I know you'll want to know so I might as well start with it. New York: the Chitauri Attack."

The group stiffened.

"What about it?" Tony growled out.

"We could've helped. We weren't given the option."

"What?!"

"You were sidelined in the name of secrecy," Natasha whispered.

Daniel froze. "Yes, how do you know?" He frowned. "In fact, I think those might've been my exact words."

"They were." She tilted her head to the side as she watched him. "I told you I overheard a conversation."

"I thought that door was sound-proof..."

"It wasn't when I walked by."

"Oookay... I'll have to let Jack know that the next time I see him... assuming he gives me the chance. Yes, that's pretty much exactly what happened. The IOA – that's the International Oversight Advisory Committee – gave in to the World Council's demands to take the lead on the situation because, well, mostly because they're really just a bunch of bureaucratic cowards and were too afraid to deal with the aftermath of the world finding out about our project. They and the Pentagon ordered the base into lockdown, blackout conditions. I'm not even sure what bullshit lie they fed to the general, or if they even bothered. Now, while lockdown isn't exactly an everyday occurrence, it happens often enough that everyone's just learnt to go about their business unless an order from the general tells them otherwise."

He took a deep breath.

"We were in lockdown for just over twelve hours. Then lockdown was lifted and people started to head home... and they heard the news. Believe me, no one was happy. Especially once the rumour about the nuclear bomb the World Council had decided to use spread around the base. See we have... experimental aircraft that could've flown circles around those Chitauri and blasted the big whale things out of the sky. Not to mention that we've got the world's foremost expert on wormhole physics on staff."

"And we had the Avengers," said Coulson, for once unable to keep the shock off his face. "Six extraordinary individuals, but still only six against an army."

Daniel nodded.

"The world's foremost expert on wormhole physics?" Bruce asked.

"Doctor Colonel Samantha Carter," Daniel answered and then added dismissively, "You may have heard Cassie refer to her as Aunt Sam."

"That name does sound familiar..." said Tony.

"I consulted her work heavily when I was studying wormholes," said Bruce. "Although she was wrong about a wormhole only letting in matter in one direction."

Daniel shrugged. "Yeah, she's got theories on why that worked for Tony with the Chitauri's wormhole."

"I'll bet she does," Clint interrupted. "Can we get back to the topic though? Like this Project Blue Book thing or the SGC or whatever it's actually called?"

Daniel's lips quirked. "Project Blue Book is sort of an umbrella name for the entire project. The SGC is where the project initially started, but it's since expanded and there are a number of facilities and side-projects associated with it now. For instance, Area 51 isn't a part of Project Blue Book, except for certain areas and specific research projects. We also have several engineering sites dedicated to working on our experimental aircraft and... other facilities, including a few things we've contracted out to civilian research and development companies."

Tony frowned. "You don't have anything at Stark Industries," he said, although it sounded like a question.

"You don't work with the US military anymore."

"Ah. Right."

"Anyway, I just want you to know that I believe in this project. I think it's the most amazing thing the human race has ever done."

"If it's so great, why is the IOA so intent on keeping it secret?" Steve asked.

Daniel sighed, pausing to think of the best way to describe it. "One of our earliest detractors was Senator Kinsley–"

"–Met him," said Tony. "Hated him. He was an ass... and then he disappeared. Wait. Did you guys have anything to do with that?"

"Uh, sort of. I mean, we didn't have him killed – that was partially his own fault – but if he hadn't been involved with the project he wouldn't have died. Anyway, he once called the project Pandora's Box and it sort of is. At the time we weren't quite as big and hadn't really expanded into as much of the non-weapons research, making us a huge drain on resources that someone like Kinsley couldn't see any viable use for. And starting up the project came with dangerous consequences."

"Like the Ori," said Natasha.

Daniel nodded. "Like the Ori." He took a deep breath. "The Ori are gods. Or rather, they have set themselves up as gods. What they actually are is a very advanced race of aliens that had managed to evolve to the point where they could leave this universe and ascend to a higher plane of existence in non-corporeal form. They're not the only ones that have done so, but they discovered that they gained power through belief, through faith and so they set themselves up as gods. When we came into contact with them, their first question was if we believed in the Ori. We – sorry, no _I_ answered that no, we'd never even heard of them."

Daniel smiled bitterly. "So they gathered their followers, commanded them to build ships, and launched a crusade. Their followers, the people we're facing all come from Medieval-level societies, but the weapons and technology they've been given is so far beyond us that nothing we, or our allies, have been able to throw at them has managed to do anything significant. We've managed to slow them down, destroyed a few of their ships, but the damages we've taken have been high. And now we have confirmation that they're on their way to Earth with at least five ships and the SGC has been stalled ever since SHIELD fell and Hydra was exposed."

"They want to root out any Hydra infiltration," said Steve. "But they're choosing one threat over another."

"Exactly!" Daniel couldn't take it anymore, he shoved his chair backwards almost violently as he stood, running a hand through his hair as he began to pace.

"The problem is that when it comes down to it, Hydra almost doesn't matter. They're an insignificant threat at this point. It's not that we don't have any weapons, any means to defend ourselves, but what we have won't be enough. Sam and her team are working on something that could work as a defence, but it's not finished yet and we have no idea how long-term it'll work for when they do get it to work."

"Not to mention that even if Hydra has infiltrated you, it's not like they're going to work against you on this," Natasha added.

"Can't take over the world if someone bigger and badder has already taken it over," said Sam. "Damn."

"Hang on, if they haven't made it to Earth yet, how do you know how big of a threat they are?" Skye asked.

"They've been taking their time getting here and we've watched as planet after planet has fallen to them."

"Yeah, but how?!" said Tony.

Daniel put his hands into his pockets and rocked backwards onto his heels. "Ever heard of a show called Wormhole Extreme?"

"Yup, love that show," said Clint.

"I've seen it," said Skye.

"I think I've seen parts of it," said Tony. "That's the one with the people walking through wormholes to other planets right?"

"Yeah, my mom loved that show," said Sam. "Was really sad when it went off the air. She cried when Doctor– hang on."

"Daniel, exactly what does SGC stand for?" Coulson asked shrewdly.

Daniel grinned. "Stargate Command. Marty, the guy who came up with the idea for Wormhole Extreme and wrote the original scripts, is actually from another planet."

"You're shitting me," said Clint, gaping. "You're fucking shitting me. That thing is real?!"

"Yup," Daniel agreed, popping the 'p'. "Or possibly no, possibly you've just been watching waay too much sci-fi; it's all just make-believe you know."

They were all silent, until Agent May smirked. "That's quite the clever cover," she said. "I'm impressed."

"So am I," said Coulson. "Hiding in plain sight and setting up something that makes any conspiracy theorists that get close and start talking look like fools."

"To be fair, it wasn't our idea," said Daniel with a shrug. "The thing with Marty is... complicated."

"How would it even work?" Tony asked, his eyes wide and unfocused, lost inside his own head.

"We actually have no idea." Tony blinked and his eyes focused back to Daniel. "We know what it does, how to fix it, how to use the gate technology and even how to change some of its base programming, but how it actually works, we have no idea. I don't think that physics has been invented yet."

Tony's jaw dropped. Bruce snorted softly in amusement. "I think you'll have him drooling here in a second."

"Ah, well I remember one race we encountered who Sam told me had been amused when they found out we still used quantum physics."

All eyes turned to Tony to watch his expression go blank. "Still use quantum physics? _Still use quantum physics?!_" And then his eyes shone with excitement, with the same sort of glee that a child would show if they'd been told it was official Eat Nothing But Candy Day. "Right, where's that dotted line? Show me the dotted line. I'll sign over my soul, my firstborn, whatever it takes. Well, except for Pepper's shoe collection. I do have some sense of self-preservation, after all."

Daniel laughed. "So, I take it we can start planning?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling us you don't have a plan yet?"

"Ah, well, yes I do have a plan, but I wasn't sure if I'd have to do it alone or not."

"Daniel, we're not going to let you do this alone," said Steve.

"We're all sort of attached to the world staying the way it is, free of pretend alien gods," Clint added. "Well, except for Thor, because we like Thor. He can stay."

An hour later, Daniel sent a text to Cassie, telling her all was going well. When she got back to the tower, the group was still in the dining room, trying to convince Tony why he needed to stay behind on Earth where he'd likely be needed more than gallivanting through space. She smiled and bid them goodnight, leaving them to their planning.

The next day, Daniel and Cassie moved back to their hotel to keep the NID and the military from getting too suspicious and spent the rest of Daniel's vacation enjoying themselves around the city. When Daniel left for Colorado Springs, Cassie saw him off at the airport and then went back to her hotel. The next afternoon she signed out and walked out the front lobby. She slid into the waiting limo.

"So, they did it?" she asked Tony, who looked up from his tablet.

"Went off without a hitch according to Coulson," he said.

"Good... that's good."

Cassie looked out the window and watched as New York streets sped by, silently hoping that Daniel managed to get out of this one alive.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! I think you can all probably guess what's on the menu for part 3, lol. It'll mostly likely be up by Saturday at the latest. :)<p> 


	8. Act II, pt iii

Sorry for the slight delay! Got home from work on Saturday absolutely exhausted and just couldn't keep my eyes open while I was trying to edit. Thanks for all your comments and support!

* * *

><p>CLOCKWORK<p>

The apartment wasn't large, but it was full, teetering on the edge between efficiently-used space and overcrowded. Every available surface was covered in books and nick knacks – of the sort that most people would call souvenirs and knowledgeable eyes would recognize as treasures.

It looked like a well-lived home.

It felt abandoned. The colours were muted as only narrow stripes of sunlight managed to peek in through the heavy drapes across the windows, light almost reflecting off the edge of the empty fish tank that sat on top a shorter bookcases. The air smelt stale, held suspended in time by a stillness so complete it meant the inhabitants had been absent for long enough that the dust had settled some time ago.

There was a comfortable-looking couch and matching armchair in the living room facing a small television and a coffee table that looked like it had come from an auction house. The walls were lined with bookshelves that parted only to wrap around an electric fireplace. Above the mantel hung a grainy blown-up photograph of a lonely pyramid in the midst of a desert, its tip pointing up towards a bright blue sky – and if one looked closely, they would notice how the fluffy white clouds hid three spherical shapes. A person with enough imagination might just call them moons. They would think of it as an amusing bit of photoshop. The photograph's owner would just smile and nod.

In the kitchen stood a large, solid wood table that would've easily seated an entire family had the surface not been cluttered with papers, books and empty mugs. Very little light made it into the kitchen, turning it into a dark, forbidding cave.

The stillness was momentarily broken by a low metallic hum and a sudden light spilling out from the deep blackness beneath the kitchen table. If anyone had been in the apartment, they would've seen a column of wavering light appear out of thin air and then disappear mere moments later, leaving behind an innocuous-looking paper bag.

It was swallowed up by the shadows, the apartment darkening further as the meagre light from outside gradually dimmed. The only disturbance to the quiet was a muted thud as something fell to the ground in the apartment above: a sign that life existed beyond the apartment.

Until there came the hint of a whisper from the bedroom along with a sliver of fresh air, noticeable only for its rarity. A well-trained eye would've then noticed how some of the shadows grew and, perhaps, may even have caught movement within their depths.

However, with methodical efficiency, any eyes that might have been watching were snuffed out, listening ears made deaf. So they couldn't see the two figures that eventually crept out from the shadows and settled silently on the couches, where they remained, motionless, as the stillness settled around them.

* * *

><p>Daniel paid the cab driver and then adjusted the strap of his leather satchel before heading into his apartment building, wheeling his suitcase behind him. He couldn't suppress the yawn while he waited for the elevator and tried to remember why he'd decided it was a good idea to book a flight that brought him home so late.<p>

He let himself into his apartment, cringing as the smell of warm stale air his his nose, and turned the light on. He abandoned his suitcase next to the door, eager to open all the apartment's windows as wide as they would go.

Two steps later, he froze, taking in the two people silently lounging on his couch. Both calmly watched him back.

"Uh..." he began. He hadn't expected them so soon, dammit. The Asgard anti-surveillance device was still buried deep within his suitcase and he didn't trust the NID, the IOA, the Joint Chiefs or the Trust (he supposed Hydra was a possibility now too) to have not taken advantage of his absence to bug his apartment. His eyes scanned the room frantically, trying to see if he noticed anything out of place – not that anyone who knew what they were doing would be that clumsy, but it never hurt to check for the obvious first.

"We got them all."

Daniel's eyes snapped back to the couch. Natasha was looking at him with steady eyes, the side of her mouth quirked in amusement. "The bugs, we got them all."

"There were a lot of them," Steve added. "A couple different makes too: you're apparently a popular guy, Daniel."

Daniel groaned. "Great, that's just great. I'm just going to go and assume they all magically appeared while I was away and if there's any evidence to the contrary, I don't want to know."

Steve nodded. "Fair enough. If it helps, the only cameras were in the living room and kitchen."

Daniel snorted. "So you mean my stalkers had some respect for my privacy? Though I'm not exactly sure what they expected me to be doing in my kitchen that they needed to set up cameras to catch."

"Maybe they really wanted to know the secret ingredient to your pasta sauce," said Natasha.

"Then they should've bugged Jack's place, because my pasta sauce comes from the organic store next to my dry cleaners."

He shook his head and then decided to continue with his original goal of opening all the windows in the apartment. The fresh air felt lovely as it began to circulate, slowly chasing out the stuffiness. When he came back to the main area, it was to find Steve examining one of his mezzo-American sculptures while Natasha brewed coffee.

"You guys hungry?" Daniel asked. "I could order pizza."

Natasha shrugged. "That's an unfair question," she said casually. "Steve's always hungry."

Steve coughed and his cheeks took on a slightly pink hue. "I'm fine," he said. "We ate before we came."

Daniel shrugged. "Well, I'm hungry and there's no food in the fridge, so I may as well order an extra large pizza. It's better value anyway. And I highly doubt you've been able to eat the way you'd like to on the journey down: attractive young blond who looks like either a body-builder or a marine and eats twice eats his weight in food would be a bit memorable with wait staff at restaurants."

Steve's blush deepened. "We ordered at drive-thrus," he muttered.

Daniel chuckled as he grabbed the menu from the top of his fridge and dialled the delivery number. Once he'd placed his order and put the menu back, he caught sight of something under his kitchen table. He pushed one of the chairs to the side and crouched down to grab the nondescript paper bag he found. It crinkled in his hand, the smell of chocolate and walnuts wafting out when he opened it.

Daniel smiled and stood, placing the bag onto the table as he carefully piled the cookies next to it to see what Sam had managed to get him this time. He'd talked to her the night after leaving Stark Tower and explained his plans, because he'd needed her help with some of the logistics. She hadn't exactly been happy about it, but Daniel knew that was at least partially because she couldn't come with him. And partially because of the regulations they were breaking: she would always be an army brat at heart and no matter how good the reason, going against orders would never sit well with her.

"What's that?" he heard Steve ask.

Daniel looked up. "Chocolate walnut cookies," he said.

"You keep cookies under the table?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

Daniel chuckled. "Ah, well, I didn't put them there." He took a small stack of cookies and handed it to Steve. "Here, have some." He then took one for himself and bit into it, savouring the gooey chocolate heaven with added nutty crunch.

Taking away the cookies revealed a red plastic bag. Daniel took it out and looked inside. He grinned and immediately put the bag down in order to grab his cellphone and text Sam.

_Sam you're spoiling me with all these cookies. Seriously, where do you find the time to bake them? Thank you! :)_

Sam's reply arrived only moments later.

_Lol, you're welcome! They're from my emergency freezer stash. Good luck tomorrow._

_Thanks. You too._

He put the phone down and looked back to Steve and Natasha, who were examining the arm band that had been in the red bag. "This isn't a cookie," Natasha commented.

"Admittedly the cookies were a disguise." Daniel held his hand out for the wristband. Natasha hesitated for a moment before handing it over to him. "_This–_" he said as he slipped it into place around his wrist, "–is going to help one of you sneak into Cheyenne Mountain with me tomorrow morning."

He could see the questions on the tip of their tongues but instead of answering, he simply turned the device on. By the way they both jumped after it activated, he assumed it had worked.

"Daniel, are you there?" Steve asked, stepping forward and carefully waving his hand in Daniel's direction.

Natasha wasn't nearly as careful when she stepped forward, crowding right in front of Daniel. Her hand went through him and Daniel resisted the urge to backpedal. He'd done this before – twice – he knew nothing they did could hurt him until he turned the device off. Natasha walked forward, arms slightly outstretched, sharp eyes looking into every hidden corner, into every shadow, ears listening for the slightest noise, the shallowest breath. He was getting a second glimpse of the Black Widow, Daniel realized.

He also realized that people walking through you never stopped being weird.

Steve took several steps backwards and seemed to do the same although he held his arms out a bit further, as though preparing to grapple. He slowly made his way to the edge of the kitchen and then turned to meet Natasha's eyes. Daniel suddenly felt incredibly glad to have them as allies rather than enemies. Neither spoke a word as they began circling the room, meeting in the middle.

Daniel waited until Steve had just walked past him to turn off the device. First he glanced to his feet to make sure nothing unexpected had come back with him, but the floor was clear. He felt the displacement of air as Steve whirled around.

"Woah," he exclaimed in surprise.

Daniel looked up and smiled at the shocked expression on Steve's face. There was something immensely satisfying about surprising Captain America.

"That's a pretty impressive cloak," said Natasha, not bothering to hide the sparkle of excitement in her eyes.

Daniel grinned. "It's not really a cloak," he said. "It phases you into a parallel dimension, but one that's only slightly out of phase with ours. So you can see into _this_ dimension, but you're just enough out of phase with it that nothing in this dimension can touch you and nothing you do can affect it."

"Now that sounds like something I'd expect to find in the future," said Steve with a wide, excited grin.

Natasha snorted. "Fury would offer his second eye in exchange for a couple of these."

"Assuming Tony didn't beat him to it," Steve added.

Daniel laughed. "I think I could solve that problem. Fury could have the wristbands and Tony could play with the device that shifts you into a parallel dimension without the need for them."

"Seriously?" said Steve.

"Yep," said Daniel. "Actually, there's probably any number of things we could distract Tony with so that'd hardly be a problem. And most labs have their own coffeemakers, so we'd probably never see him again. And that's assuming we could get him away from the gate in the first place."

Steve laughed and even Natasha let her lips form a small smile. They both disappeared into Daniel's bedroom when the pizza arrived.

* * *

><p>"Nice digs," said Clint as he walked up the ramp of the Bus, bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.<p>

"Thank you, it was gift from Fury," said Coulson blandly. "And I've had Mac rig all the ventilation shafts with electric grates, so don't even try it."

Clint grinned. "Aw, you're such a spoilsport."

Coulson managed not to roll his eyes, but Clint could tell the temptation was there. Mission accomplished. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and rolled his neck as he adjusted the quiver on his back. There was a figure in the shadows: Melinda May.

"The others not back yet?" Coulson asked.

"We were going to just meet up here," said Clint with a shrug. He noticed others coming out from the labs and from down the corridors. "And hey, I don't think I've met some of these people. They all yours?"

A lean man with a brown beard snorted. "Uh, I'm not," he said and Clint made note of the British accent.

"So you keep saying," said Skye from where she was leaning against the railing. "And yet you're still here." The man glared at her, but she ignored him, instead waving to Clint with a smile. "Hey Clint, you guys get here okay?"

"Hey Skye! Yeah, got in this morning. Didn't look like there was anyone following us, so we did some hiking, scoped out the mountain and bought supplies."

Bootfalls coming up the ramp behind him had him turning around. It was Sam, looking relaxed... and slightly drunk if the slight tilt in his posture was any indication. Clint snickered.

"Hey, flyboy, how was the reunions with your buddies?" he called down.

"It was good to see them again," said Sam. "They weren't much help, mind you, but Wettlaufer might be in training for Daniel's project, 'cause he said he was in some sort of special training that was super exciting and that I should come back to the service, that he'd put a good word in for me and it would be awesome and sort of a lot scary. And Heston's getting married. To a woman. Whose name is... Irene or Iris or something..." He looked thoughtful for a moment and then his eyes lit up. "Heather! Her name's Heather!"

"Good job, man," said Clint. "Why don't you come sit down and one of Coulson's minions will get you some water. Pretty sure the last thing you'll wanna be tomorrow is hungover."

An hour later, Sam was much more sober and Cap finally came climbing up the ramp.

"About time!" Clint called to him from the steps he and Sam had settled onto. "What took you guys so long? Also, where'd you leave Natasha?"

"Sorry, Daniel ordered pizza and we sort of lost track of time," said Steve. "And I have no idea where Natasha is."

"What do you mean you have no idea where Natasha is?" said Sam. "Did you guys get attacked?"

"Naw, we're both fine."

Clint's eyes narrowed. Something wasn't right. Steve wasn't nearly this nonchalant when one of them went missing. He was the worst sort of mother hen when it came to his team. Something brushed against his ear.

"Boo."

Clint jumped away instinctively, startled by the sudden appearance of someone at his back. Unfortunately, he misjudged the width of the step below him and slipped on the smooth metal with a squawk, waving his arms for balance, before crashing to the ground in an undignified heap. There was a moment of stunned silence before the Bus erupted with laughter. Clint groaned and stayed where he was for a moment.

Suddenly there was an amused-looking face framed with red hair looking down at him. She was joined by a worried-looking Steve.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm good Cap. Nothing bruised or broken but my dignity. Well, there might be a few bruises, but nothing serious." Then he turned to Natasha. "How the fuck did you get there?"

Natasha smirked and brought her hand up to touch a button on the weird wristband thing she was wearing. And then she was gone.

Clint shot up, his arm reaching out to grab her... but all he caught was air. He scanned the area. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he looked up into Steve's laughing eyes.

"Don't bother looking, you won't find her," he said.

"Wow, that's amazing!" said Skye. "I didn't think anyone had a personal cloaking device like that."

"Neither did I," said Coulson, unable to keep the stunned look entirely off his face.

"Yeah, except I'm not getting any heat signatures," said a deep voice. Clint looked up to the large bald engineer. Mac was holding a tablet in his hands and poking at it.

"Because she's not in this dimension," said Steve. "According to Daniel, the device phases you out of this dimension into another one that's so close to this one that you can see it, but no one can see you or touch you."

Suddenly Natasha appeared beside Steve again. "This is how Steve's breaking into the mountain," she said.

"Steve? Why Steve?" Sam asked, eyeing the wristband with excitement.

"Because the two of us are our close-quarters combat specialists and, of the two of us, which one would you rather being flying down from the Bus?"

Sam made a face. "Yeah, okay, good point."

"Uh, do you mind if I take a look at it?" Mac asked and Clint had to grin at the man's awed expression.

Steve shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Just remember we're gonna need it in one piece and working for tomorrow morning."

"Oh, yeah, for sure. I'll just run some scans and maybe take a peek at the gears and wiring. Maybe build it a shrine to it while I'm at it..."

Natasha undid the wristband's clasp and handed it to Mac, who took it with such delicate care that it might as well have been made of crystal.

"Hey Fitz, buddy, wanna help me with some scans?" he called up towards the lab. A young man with curly hair came to the lab door just as Mac walked in, still holding the wristband reverently in front of him. They disappeared into the depths of the lab.

"He'll probably be up all night with that," Coulson commented.

"It's just a glimpse too," said Steve and they all turned to him. "According to Daniel it's sort of what his friend Sam's working on right now as part of Earth's defence. She's trying to alter the scope of a device that does something similar and create a pocket dimension big enough to cover the entire planet."

Clint stared up at Steve.

"That's insane," said Skye with bulging eyes.

"If it works it'll be even more insane," said Coulson. "Also quite brilliant."

"Until one of the alien space ships decides to fly through the planet," said Natasha. "Then it'll be mass panic."

* * *

><p>The sun hadn't even begun to peek over the horizon when Steve snuck into Daniel's apartment again. This time the climb was easier because he knew where he was going. The bedroom was empty when he climbed in through the window, but he could hear a shower running further down the hall.<p>

He considered waiting for Daniel in his bedroom, but then decided he didn't want to give the man too much of a shock first thing in the morning. So instead he left the window open to announce his presence and went into the kitchen to make coffee. It had just finished brewing when Daniel shuffled in, dressed but bleary-eyed.

Steve handed him a mug of coffee.

"Aah, a considerate home invader," said Daniel, inhaling the coffee's aroma with a happy smile. "You can stay."

Steve laughed and took a sip of his own coffee, savouring the warmth. He watched as Daniel demonstrated Tony Stark-levels of heat tolerance and took mere minutes to gulp down his coffee. He drank his second cup much more slowly, enjoying the taste.

"You gonna have food with your breakfast?" Steve asked.

"No food, remember," said Daniel, waving a hand towards his empty fridge (the few condiments Steve had spied there yesterday wouldn't have made a meal even for the most creative cook). "There's a little bakery I can drive by and pick up something to eat. I should also get some power bars... can't quite remember what was left of my stash at the office. Chocolate too, probably."

Steve blinked. "Chocolate?"

Daniel nodded, his expression completely serious. "It doubles as a potential thing to trade with locals for real food, or as a peace offering." He shrugged. "I've learnt that the oddest things come in handy when you least expect them to. Extra lighters are useful too."

Steve nodded, trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism despite the child inside his mind – the one who'd been too sick to join the other children in their games, who'd spent days in bed with nothing to do but draw and read, and _dream_ – bouncing with excitement as he finally got his wish, his own fantastic adventure. Not that becoming Captain America hadn't been an adventure, but the best thing for the longest time had been his ability to run without his heart and lungs squeezing in protest, to be able to breathe even on hot, muggy days, to be able to see _colours_ (the artist in him had delighted in the spectacular palate he hadn't realized existed). Then there had been the War Bonds tour, which had made him feel empty and hollow – a fraud.

And then there'd been the war, and no matter what books and movies tried to say, there was nothing glamorous about war. He'd done what had been asked of him, done his duty. He'd never thought of himself as a hero.

Waking up in the future should've been an adventure; it was the sort of thing science fiction novels were made of, after all. But the excitement had been muted by grief, by realizing that he had no one to share the adventure with. Not at first, anyway. Now he had a team, friends, and he was going to another planet in order to save the world. It was like a medieval quest and a science fiction novel thrown into one story.

"You know, it's okay to be both excited and nervous."

Steve started from his thoughts and looked up to Daniel, who was looking at him over his coffee mug with an amused smile. There was as much understanding in the smile as there was amusement, however.

"I suppose that's a normal reaction," said Steve sheepishly.

Daniel grinned. "Oh yeah. This might be just another day at the office for me, but I still remember that first time I went through... and really the first year of missions once the SGC actually got going for real. I think it's even worse for the hard scientists who understand what the Gate does. Just remember not to breath in before going through and to walk normally."

Steve nodded. "I'll try and remember that."

Daniel finished his coffee and placed the mug next to the sink. "So, we should probably get going. It's Saturday, so there won't be as many people at the base, but we should still aim to get there before the day shift does."

"Why exactly is your vacation ending on a Saturday?" Steve asked.

Daniel just shrugged. "I like working on the weekends. There's less distractions and it's a great time to catch up on stuff. Which admittedly won't be nearly as bad as if the last two weeks had been full of missions, but I'm sure there'll be a bunch of reports and such for me to look through..." He trailed off, his eyes going unfocused, stunned, as though suddenly realizing those reports might never get looked at, the work on his desk never finished.

Steve gulped down the last bit of his coffee and placed the mug next to Daniel's. The clink of china on the countertop, seemed to shake Daniel out of his stupor and he headed for the door, where he picked up his satchel and went over its contents one, last time.

"Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed and ran off into his bedroom. He came back with a familiar-looking device. "Here, you take the anti-surveillance device. I suddenly realized that I have no idea if my car's bugged and I'm not taking the chance that it's the NID, who could actually call ahead to the base and have me detained. Also, after you and Natasha left last night, I remembered the Reetou Detectors, which are scanners set up at the entrance to the Gateroom and the SGC itself that can detect lifeforms moving in closely parallel dimensions. Now, I have no idea if this'll actually work, but it's the best I can think of. Otherwise, we'll just have to knock out the guards and run straight to the Gateroom before someone figures out what's going on and puts the base on lockdown."

Steve took the device. "I take it these detectors were installed as a result of however you managed to get your hands on these wristbands?"

Daniel laughed. "Nope, actually that was a completely different mission. I can tell you on the way to the mountain if you like."

As planned, Daniel stopped at the bakery on their way to the base, arriving just as it was opening. Steve stayed in the car, a dark grey blanket draped over his shoulders to hide his uniform from the sight of curious on-lookers. Not that there were many of those this early on a Saturday morning, but it only took one person to recognize Captain America for it to be all over the internet within minutes.

Daniel came back with a large paper bag of buns and pastries and a second, smaller plastic bag he threw onto the backseat next to his leather satchel. He handed the paper bag to Steve, silently indicated that he should help himself as he ate his own danish.

As they approached Cheyenne Mountain, Steve began to feel the familiar thrum of anticipation in his veins. His limbs felt like they were vibrating with the desire for movement, for action. He tried to calm himself by looking out the window – there was certainly a lot to look at, enough to make Steve want to take out his sketchbook.

"You have a beautiful drive to work," he said into the silence.

Daniel snorted. "Trust me, you get far less appreciative of the view after the first time you have to navigate a snowstorm along this road."

Steve chuckled. "I suppose."

A few minutes later Daniel cleared his throat. "You should probably turn the armband on now," he said. "That bend up ahead is where the first CCTV cameras are located to monitor incoming traffic."

"You know, I don't even think SHIELD had as much security as you guys do," said Steve, shaking his head. He reached for the controls on the wristband. "Well, I guess I'll see you in your office, Daniel."

"Good luck, Steve."

"You too."

The most remarkable about the wristband was how the only indication it had done anything was a slight tingling sensation that enveloped the area around the band for a few seconds. And yet he'd phased into a parallel dimension. He looked up, wondering if the quinjet was in position yet. A glance at the clock told him that no, probably not, since they weren't due to take off for another twenty minutes and they would've let him know if they'd been compromised.

Daniel flashed his ID at the security guard by the front gate, asking the young man about his wife as he signed the ledger. Steve grinned as the soldier suddenly stood a little straighter, proudly answering that his wife was recovering just fine and their daughter, Julie, was healthy as any newborn could be and looked just like her mother. Daniel congratulated him and then drove off to park.

Steve made note of the cameras on the door and watched as Daniel walked through the metal detector at the security checkpoint inside. The guards stationed here seemed less friendly and Daniel was polite, but not personable. One of them raised an eyebrow at the contents of the red plastic bag.

"My stash ran dry," said Daniel with a shrug and the guard merely rolled his eyes, muttering something rather uncomplimentary about scientists. Steve couldn't tell if Daniel had heard him.

After getting through the scan, Daniel veered away from the wall of elevators most people were heading and down a short hallway that a second set of elevators.

"Doctor Jackson!"

Steve turned to watch a woman quickly walked towards them, her long straight dark hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She smiled at Daniel.

"Thought it was you," she said. "Welcome back, I hear your vacation got a bit exciting."

"Thanks," said Daniel with a friendly smile. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." He paused and smirked. "So, who won the pool on that one?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." A sly smile edged its way across her face. "But Lieutenant Avery looked a little too happy the day after your misadventure."

"Of course it was SG-3."

"Well, if it helps, there were a lot of marines moping around the place that day, so he kinda stuck out."

"I'm so sorry to disappoint. Next time I'll ask the Avengers to be less efficient because my own marines want a chance to play dashing knights. And before you even say it, yes, the paramedics checked me out at the scene, gave me a clean bill of health except for some mild bruising, so no I don't need to come see you in the infirmary where you can poke and prod at me."

"And the nurses were so looking forward to seeing you again. I'm pretty sure I saw Nurse Clark polishing her favourite needle."

Steve chuckled as Daniel shivered.

"Well, you're due for your antihistamine shot, so tough luck; you'll be seeing me anyway," she said.

"Sure thing, Doctor Lam."

The doctor was eyeing Daniel suspiciously when the elevator door opened. Daniel smiled innocently as he motioned to her to precede him.

To yet another security checkpoint. This one had two guards: one sitting at a desk with a ledger which Daniel signed into and a second standing next to him, visibly armed with a semi-automatic rifle. It seemed too simple, until Steve's sharp eyes took in the thick rubber mat just in front of the desk. It had SGC printed on it, with a bouquet of international flags below it and some sort of symbol arched above it. At least it looked like it was supposed to be a symbol even if Steve didn't recognize it: an inverted 'V' with a circle at its tip.

It was an odd place for a welcome mat. Steve was guessing a weight sensor. He looked to either side of the short corridor... yup, motion sensors. They were well-hidden and an untrained eye probably wouldn't have found them at all.

Once he'd signed in, Daniel walked with the doctor into another elevator and they began to head down. And down. Steve looked at the keypad and whistled. None of the floors were labelled, but there sure were a lot of them. Finally, the elevator door opened and Steve followed the other two into a military grey corridor that could've easily been a corridor in any military facility. Oddly enough, the only security here seemed to be a single armed guard stationed by the elevator doors, beside a phone hanging on the wall.

Daniel nodded a greeting to the guard and then paused to look up at the ceiling for a few moments, before looking to the side walls. Steve frowned and looked up. There was a row of small blue boxes stuck to the ceiling in a straight line. They had to be the Reetou detectors, as Daniel had called them. The corridor was also full of security cameras, but that wasn't exactly a surprise.

Steve took a deep breath. This was the first real hurdle. He looked at the device in his hand, double-checking that it was on. Then his muscles tensed and he ran forward, through the minuscule gap between Daniel and Doctor Lam, not knocking them over only because his body moved through them. He ran to the end of the corridor and turned, not daring to breathe as he waited for an alarm to go off, for the guard to raise her gun and aim it at him, for the phone next to her to ring.

The phone stayed silent. The alarms all stayed off. After a few minutes, Steve allowed himself to breathe again.

And realized that Daniel wasn't walking towards him. He cursed under his breath and hurried back. It took him several minutes (and one detour he was glad no one would ever find out about) to find Daniel inside the men's locker room lacing up a pair of combat boots.

They got waylaid a few times on their way to Daniel's office and Steve suddenly understood why the man had refused to specify an exact time for the group on the quinjet. There was another elevator ride and several stretches of corridors involved before Daniel finally swiped his keycard at an office door.

"Daniel!"

Steve instinctively jumped out of the way as a figure streaked past him and launched herself onto Daniel's back. Daniel cried out in surprise and staggered under the sudden weight. It took him a moment of flailing before he regained his balance. He sighed in resignation.

"Hello, Vala," he said, his tone flat. "What are you doing up this early on a Saturday?"

"Oh just wanted to welcome you back," said the woman, whose arms were clasped around Daniel's shoulders while the rest of her dangled off of him like an army-green cape. Her dark hair was tied into two pony tails at the base of her head with bright pink elastics and she was grinning madly.

"Right, of course," said Daniel, sounding entirely unconvinced as he opened the door to his office and turned on the light. He walked through, seemingly unconcerned with his passenger.

"And Cameron wanted to come see the souvenirs you brought him," Vala added cheerfully.

"Woah there, you keep me out of this, Vala," a male voice said from behind Steve, making him jump.

He cursed under his breath. The wristband device was throwing him off-balance, because nothing around him felt right. He might've been able to see the parallel dimension everyone else was in, but he couldn't feel anything. He suspected this was the real reason Natasha had left this part of the mission to him.

"Hey Cam," Daniel greeted the man.

"Heya Daniel. Nice to see you back in one piece."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "You realize that was never actually in any doubt."

"Daniel, with you it's always in doubt."

Steve grinned as he followed them into Daniel's office. The office wasn't a small space, but like Daniel's apartment, every single available inch had been crammed with stuff, including the large wooden worktable in the centre. Mostly books – some looked new, but many looked old, some very old, nearly ancient – but there was also a stack of scrolls, a portable chalkboard, and a plethora of artifacts including bowls, elaborately-decorated knives, figurines and a human skull made from black stone. The metal filing cabinet beside the door had a coffeemaker and several several mugs sitting on top of it. In the middle of the semi-organized chaos, the computer desk looked almost out-of-place as the only sign of the modern world.

He looked back to the still-bickering trio just as Daniel reached into his satchel and took out a plain white plastic bag, handing it over his shoulder to Vala. Vala's eyes lit up and she finally let go of Daniel and slid off his back as she grabbed the package.

"Ooh, thank you!" she said, happily taking out a familiar 'I Love NY' t-shirt.

Daniel rolled his shoulders before throwing Cameron a similar white plastic bag.

"Thanks Daniel," said Cameron with a grin before leaning against the worktable behind him. He waited for a beat. "So, what's the plan?"

Daniel froze. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully. "Plan for what?"

Cameron shrugs. "Vala said you told her you thought you might've found something."

"Might have, yes, but does how 'might have' turn into a plan exactly?"

"'Cause you're you and we're SG1," said Vala matter-of-factly. "And that means we're supposed to have some sort of crazy plan to save the world."

"Can't be a full, card-carrying member of SG1 'till I've gone against orders to save the world," Cameron agreed with a grin. "So, is there a plan?"

Daniel couldn't stop the smile that inched its way across his face. Jack, Sam and Teal'c weren't able to help, but he should've known better than to consider Cameron and Vala as anything less than dedicated.

"There's a plan," he admitted. Then he frowned. "But it's more than just going against orders. This is going to get us in serious trouble if you come along with me."

"Daniel, do you have any idea what the scientists are working on right now?" said Vala, looking pained. "Well I do. Because I was actually bored enough to go down to the science labs and find out. I even let Doctor Lee help me create a World of Warcraft avatar."

Daniel chuckled and looked to Cameron. The other man simply shrugged. "Look, someone's gotta do something and if we don't then we'll be dead after the Ori get here anyway. If the army wants to throw us in jail or execute us or whatever after, then at least everyone else will be alive."

Daniel took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a long shot," he warned them. "I'm not entirely sure what we'll find... but if we find what I think we might, then it'll be worth it."

Cameron just shrugged. "Sometimes, to win the game you've just gotta throw that Hail Mary and pray it works out."

"Okay then," Daniel considered his friends. "Steve, you might want to join us for this part."

Cameron jumped as Captain America suddenly materialized next to him out of thin air.

"Guys, this is Steve. Steve, this is Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell and Vala Mal Doran."

"Nice to meet you folks," said Steve with a nod.

Cam was staring at Steve in awe – until he noticed the familiar wristband. He turned accusing eyes towards Daniel. Vala continued to eye Steve appreciatively. Steve watched her out of the corner of his eyes, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Jackson, I'm hurt," he said. "You've been talking to Sam about this and didn't think to come to us?!"

"Sorry, wasn't sure if I could trust the SGC's phone lines." Which was also true.

"Yeah, but–"

"Shut up, Cameron," said Vala, snapping her eyes away from Steve's biceps (Steve's relief was obvious). "The plan, Daniel?"

"Uh, I'll have to explain most of it on the move, 'cause we've gotta go. So if you're coming, you'd better get your gear."

Cameron hesitated for a moment and then sighed. "Aw, what the hell, this is what we do all the time too. Okay, so I take it we're headed for the Gateroom?"

"Yup."

"And this is gonna be a bit more than a day-trip."

"Definitely."

"Good thing we had so much time on our hands, then. We'll meet you in the Gateroom in fifteen."

Daniel blinked as Cam and Vala rushed out of his office. He shook his head and then looked to Steve. "Well, I guess our group just got bigger."

Steve smiled. "They look like good people."

"They are good people," Daniel replied. He made a face. "Well, most of the time Vala's good people. Watch out for her, though, she's a con-artist and thief at heart."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good. And we should probably get going."

Steve nodded to him and turned his wristband back on. Daniel grabbed his backpack from under his desk, where it sat ready with the basics. Given the amount of books and other tools of his trade he often carried with him on missions, it wasn't entirely unusual for him to keep his bag in his office and he was glad he'd decided to stash it here months ago. Now he threw in the notebook and some papers from his satchel, along with a few books, upended a box of power bars and stuffed in the bag of chocolate.

He exited his office and walked right into Doctor Lam, who immediately grabbed his arm and began rolling up his sleeve. In his surprise, Daniel didn't think to stop her.

"D-Doctor Lam–" he stuttered.

"–I don't usually do house calls, Daniel, but if you're not going to come to me then I guess I have to come to you," she said as she reached into the pocket of her labcoat and took out a needle. She met his eyes. "You're not going to defeat the Ori by sneezing all over them."

His eyes widened as she slid the needle into his veins and emptied its contents. She took it out, wiped the puncture wound with an antiseptic wipe and then reached into her other pocket and took out a small bag.

"Extra bandages, morphine and antibiotics, just in case," she said, handing it to him. "Good luck."

Without another word, she turned and walked away, back towards the elevator that would take her to the infirmary. Daniel stared after her as she left, before shaking himself out of his stupor. He clutched the bag in his hand for a moment as panic gave way to warmth with the realization that he wasn't alone. He'd known the SGC wasn't happy with what was happening, but he'd forgotten that just because the people around him were military, didn't mean they weren't willing to help someone else go against orders.

Daniel stuffed the bag of medical supplies into his backpack and headed for the stairs. Clearly there were people who were already aware of what he was up to, so there was little point of trying to be stealthy when time was ticking away. Director Coulson said his plane had cloaking abilities, but Daniel couldn't be certain the Apollo's sensor's wouldn't see through them (not that Coulson knew about the Apollo, because Daniel hadn't come close to telling them all the SGC's secrets).

Daniel's first stop was his locker, where he took two minutes to put on his combat uniform. Cam walked into the room and threw him a handgun and a zat. He held up another zat.

"Got one for Steve too," he said. "I'm assuming he's around somewhere?"

"I hope so," said Daniel just before Steve materialized at the locker room entrance, where he'd clearly been watching the hallway. He caught the zat easily and examined it curiously, startling as it opened.

"It's a weapon," said Daniel in amusement. "We'll show you how to use it later. Think you and Cameron can get rid of the guards, while I go up and get the roof open?"

Steve attacked the zat to his belt and took the shield off his back. "Sure, no problem," he said.

"Don't worry, Daniel, we've got this," said Cam, looking really excited by the prospect.

Daniel took a deep breath and headed up to the control room. He greeted the guards at the door, who greeted him back... until they noticed he was decked out in his field gear. But even then they weren't expecting the zat blasts. He didn't hesitate, striding into the control room and zatting the staff inside before they'd realized he was there.

"Doctor Jackson?"

Daniel whirled around at the voice behind him. Siler immediately put his hands up in surrender.

"Just wanted to remind you to take a GDO, sir," he continued when he realized he wasn't going to get instantly shot. "And good luck."

Daniel smiled. "Thank you, we're probably going to need it. And, I'm sorry."

The corner of Siler's mouth twitched. "Occupational hazard, sir."

He crumbled to the ground as the zat blast hit him. Daniel crossed the room to the safe where the GDOs were kept and found it suspiciously unlocked. He looked to Siler's still form and wondered if this was why the sergeant had been here in the first place. Deciding he didn't have time to dwell on the matter, Daniel quickly took three GDOs and then closed and locked the safe. No point in getting anyone in trouble if he didn't have to.

Daniel crossed to the control panels and entered the commands exactly as Sam had told him. After a few moments, he felt the roof above him shudder. Running to the window, Daniel looked up to see the ceiling slowly sliding apart and smiled. Then he carefully pushed the young lieutenant in front of the dialling computer out of his chair and carefully lowered him to the ground before taking his place. He entered his command code and dialled a gate address.

* * *

><p>Steve's first impression of the Stargate was that it was large. And beautiful, in its own way, as it towered over the rest of the room. Clint had shown them several episodes of Wormhole Extreme, but this giant stone ring looked nothing like the one from the show. Suddenly, the room rumbled and the ceiling began to slide apart, slowly covering the stone ring in daylight.<p>

He activated his comm. "Black Widow, Falcon, Hawkeye, this is Cap," he said. "Plan is proceeding without a hitch. We're in the Gateroom and the roof is opening."

"_Roger that, Cap, we have a visual on the roof and are preparing to disembark."_ Steve released a breath at Natasha's voice.

"Hey, Steve," Cam said from beside him. Steve turned to him and noticed he was looking up towards the control room window. Through the glass they could see Daniel sitting at the controls. "I'm going to assume here that you've got friends joining us?"

"Yes, there's three more."

Steve whirled around as the Stargate came to life. It didn't look quite the same as it had on the television show, but the mechanical sound of stone moving against stone was very similar.

"And did Daniel warn you about the gate's backwash?"

"Yes, he did."

"Ah, good then." The plan was for Sam to wait until the wormhole had activated before flying in.

Vala ran into the room only moments before the final chevron was dialled. With a loud 'whoosh' the wormhole formed in what looked like a large splash of water. The wormhole itself looked like a calm rippling pool of the bluest water Steve had ever seen. Steve wished he could sit down with a canvas and some paints.

"Okay, _that_ is one, cool-ass rabbit hole!" Sam exclaimed as he deposited Clint and Natasha onto the ground before landing himself.

"Sure is," Steve agreed with a grin.

"Hey, I'm with the Air Force, why didn't I get wings?" Cameron protested, eyeing Sam's wings with envy.

"Dude, your day-job includes travelling to other planets," said Clint. Steve nodded in agreement. "You do _not_ get to complain."

"And you were an F-302 pilot before that," Daniel added as he joined them. He nodded a greeting to Sam, Natasha and Clint. Then he met Steve's eyes and must've noticed the unspoken question in them. "Those are the, uh, experimental aircraft... that might have the ability to leave the atmosphere."

Sam and Clint goggled. Natasha looked mildly impressed. Steve's grinned widened – that sounded much neater than a flying car.

"Anyway, everyone good to go?" Cameron asked.

Steve nodded along with everyone else. Beside him, Natasha tapped her comm.

"Black Widow here, we're in and heading out," she said.

"Well then, everyone remember the basic rules of gate travel," said Cameron as he lead the way up the metal ramp. "Breathe normally, don't hold your breath before entering the wormhole, walk don't run – unless of course you're being shot at, or chased by vicious man-eating lion-things, or running away from meteor showers, volcanic lava, ex–"

His words got swallowed by the vertical pond with a quiet slurp. Vala walked calmly after him. Daniel looked back to give the four Avengers a reassuring smile before he, too, was swallowed by the wormhole. Clint and Natasha exchanged looks and then marched right into the wormhole without a single hesitation.

Steve heard Sam retracting his wings and looked at him. Sam smirked. "Well, here goes nothing, man," he said. "See ya on the other side."

Steve looked into the rippling blue wormhole and tried not to think about how much it reminded him of the ocean.

He walked into the horizon.

* * *

><p>And so ends Act II. =D Act III should be up around Christmas. Or at least that's my goal anyway.<p> 


	9. Second Interlude

I head to my mom's for Christmas in a couple of days, so am taking a few moments out of my 'Ten Thousand and One Things to Do Before I Leave' checklist to post this. Act 3 should be out sometime between Boxing Day and New Year's Day. To those of you who are celebrating something at this time of year: Happy Holidays! Everyone else, enjoy the update. It should clarify a few things about the last part of Act 2. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Second Interlude<strong>

Jack hung up his phone and immediately wished he was in his office. New technology was wonderful, and cellphones oh-so-handy, but there was something to be said for good old fashion receivers that you could slam down. Therapeutic even. Pressing a button just didn't do anything to satisfy that instant desire for violence; throwing cellphones got expensive real fast.

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he paced his living room floor. General Landry had been furious. Not only had he been called into the SGC on his weekend off (actually, Jack had absolutely no sympathy for that given how often his weekends had been interrupted while at the SGC), but he'd never been Daniel's biggest fan and now the archaeologist had gone and disobeyed direct orders. He and SG-1 had also made the rest of the base look like fools, which was most likely a large part of Landry's anger. Jack should've seen this coming.

If he was completely honest with himself, he had. He'd noticed the signs, seen Daniel's growing frustration. He should've realized when Daniel left Stark Tower and gone back to his hotel, that he was giving up too easily.

Once again, Jack resisted the impulse to throw his phone at the wall and dialled Area 51 instead. It rang six times.

"_Hello."_

"Good morning Carter," he said, putting all his effort into sounding chipper instead of pissed off.

"_Good morning, General."_

By the sound of her voice, he hadn't succeeded.

"So I don't suppose you know where Daniel is right now?" he asked.

There was a pause. _"It's Saturday... isn't he supposed to be in Colorado Springs? I think he was planning to be back at the mountain today."_

The fact that Sam Carter knew it was Saturday was suspicious at best, but not enough to call her out on.

"Oh he was in Colorado Springs all right. And showed up to work bright and early this morning too. And then he and SG1 decided to take a little unauthorized field trip through the stargate. With a group of civilians in tow."

"_With civilians, sir?"_

Jack raised an eyebrow. "An interesting part to focus on, Carter. Yes, they smuggled civilians into the base: the Avengers in fact."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. _"I thought the NID was watching the Avengers?"_

Jack snorted. "Oh, they were. Unfortunately, they were paying too much attention to Stark and his fancy press conferences to realize no one had seen Captain America in three or four days."

"_Daniel had Captain America with him?! Wow. You must be pretty jealous, sir."_

And he was, he really was. But he wasn't about to admit it out loud.

"Uh uh, you're not changing the subject that easily, Colonel. Landry's not actually sure how Daniel managed to get Captain America into the base, but he got the rest of them in by opening the Gateroom ceiling. I'm kinda curious as to how he knew to do that."

"_Uh, probably from the mission reports, sir. I mean, you're aware that he read all of SG1's mission reports from his year with the Ancients, right? Remember, we had to open the Gateroom ceiling that time when the gate had been rigged to blow."_

Of course. Sometimes Jack forgot that Daniel's smarts extended beyond languages. Funny how he always told everyone else to listen to and not underestimate Daniel, and yet he never failed to be the first guilty one at the party. Like he'd assumed there wasn't anything Daniel could do with the gate was shut down.

"Right, with Jonas." So much had happened that year. So much had happened every year since he'd joined SG1. He sighed. "So you're saying you didn't talk to Daniel while he was in New York?"

The pause that followed was likely pregnant with twins. _"Well, yes, I did talk to him sir. What with the anniversary of his parents' deaths and then the attack on the Met, I wanted to make sure he was alright. And Cassie was with him."_

"Hmmm."

Oh she knew what Daniel had been up to alright and Jack knew that if he pushed, she would eventually cave. He was her superior officer and the military mindset was too ingrained in her to allow her to directly lie to a superior officer. Side-step sure, Carter could side-step and talk around the truth with the best of them. The problem was that once the truth was acknowledged, he'd have no choice but to act on it, which would mean arresting her and holding an enquiry, taking her away from her work on the phase shield bubble thing she was working on.

No one could afford to take Carter away from her work. Doctor Lee and the others were all really smart, but Carter was the head brain for a reason. Bureaucracy would just have to wait.

"So, how's the shield coming?" he asked instead and he could practically_ feel _the relief from the other end of the phone.

"_The shield isn't the problem, sir. I've already built it once before in that alternate universe. The problem is the power requirement. In the alternate universe, the SGC had managed to reroute energy from the entire US power grid into the generator to make it work. If you'll recall I'd suggested setting up something similar several years ago, but the Joint Chiefs thought it was unnecessary and would draw too much attention to the project."_

Jack vaguely remembered that. "Right sure... and why can't we do that now?"

"_It would take too much time. My alternate had calculated the approximate power requirements before she'd figured out how to make the shield work and the government and SGC had started setting up the power reroute years in advance."_

"And I take it it'll take more than a couple naquadah generators to make this work?"

"_A lot more. Maybe a couple of ZPMs would do the job."_

"And we've got all of one of those, which we need for the Antarctic outpost."

"_Exactly, sir."_

"Great. I just love these odds."

"_We've had worse, sir."_

"Have we?"

"_Well... they did just get better. Sir."_

Jack snorted. Of all the cheeky things to say... "Just get that shield working, Carter. We need it pronto if the info from the Tok'ra is any indication. Any resources you need, just take them. I'm giving you express permission to by-pass any and all requisition procedures."

"_Anything, sir?"_

"Yes, Colonel, anything you need, it's yours. I'll make sure the guys at Area 51 know that. You have top priority except for anything that's needed for defence."

"_Understood sir. Thank you sir."_

"Bye Carter."

He hung up and then stared at the phone, wondering how worried he should be at the barely-hidden glee in her voice. He was fairly certain he could trust her not to blow up anything too important – not when so much was at stake anyway.

He shook his head and dialled a second number. This time the phone only rang once. He wondered if his call had been expected.

"_Heya, Uncle Jack!"_

"Cassie, how was your flight?"

An uncertain pause. _"I actually cancelled my flight last night. Decided to stay in New York a bit longer, see more of the city, you know. Plus I got offered a summer internship at Stark Industries and I'd have been stupid to say no to that."_

Jack pursed his lips unhappily. No one had been paying attention to Cassie either: they really should have. This whole thing was turning into one miss-step after another.

"So you knew Daniel was up to something."

"_What do you mean, Uncle Jack?"_

"Don't you 'Uncle Jack' me!" he snapped. "Changing plans like this isn't like you and I highly doubt this internship was something you'd applied for months ago; your Aunt Sam would've been all over that. No, this has Daniel Jackson sneakiness written all over it. Especially with Tony Stark's sudden decision to release details about the new Starkpad a whole month early in that press conference this morning. Which happened to come right after his press conference last night about Stark Industry's donation to the Met, all of which Tony Stark actually showed up for in person. If Daniel thinks he's fooling anyone, he's dumber than those rocks he likes to play with!"

Cassie chuckled. _"Daniel didn't need to fool you for good, Uncle Jack. He just needed to keep you and the NID off his trail until he could get to the SGC. He learnt military tactics from you after all, especially the bit about crossing bridges."_

"And I can't help but notice that you're no longer denying knowing about it," said Jack wryly. "Pretty sure your aunt knew about it too."

"_You wish you were there with them,"_ said Cassie and, for a moment, Jack felt equally proud at the perceptive young woman she had grown up to be, and appalled that she saw through him so easily. _"But you know why he couldn't tell you of all people, Uncle Jack. The SGC needs you here on Earth both now to co-ordinate defence and in the future as the Head of Homeworld Security. It's the same reason why Tony Stark had to stay behind: because if the worst case happens and the Ori get this far, then he'll be needed to protect people as Iron Man."_

Jack sighed. "He told you about the Ori."

"_Not a lot, but given that I was at the big 'Ding Dong, the Snakes are Dead' party, I knew it wasn't the Goa'uld who were the threat."_

"Right. That was a great party."

"_Sure was."_

"You're sure about staying in New York?"

"_Uncle Jack, Colorado Springs is going to be the Ori's first target, so actually, yes, I'm pretty sure about staying in New York. I have a Hulk for a bodyguard, how could I possibly be safer?"_

"If you had a Jaffa as a bodyguard," Jack muttered, annoyed.

Cassie laughed. _"Okay point, but Uncle Teal'c isn't on Earth right now, so that's not an option. Besides, if he was he'd be with SG1 in the thick of things and I'm really not sure that's safer."_

"Yeah, whatever. You take care, Cassie and if anyone tries to hurt you or... gets too frisky or something, then just let me know and I'll eject them into space. Or something."

"_Good-bye, Uncle Jack."_

"Stay safe, kiddo."

"_You too. And good luck."_

They were gonna need it, thought Jack as he hung up. His phone started ringing again almost immediately: it was General Vidrine. Fantastic.


	10. Act III, pt i

Happy New Year everyone! Sadly I got much less time to write over the holidays than I thought I would, coupled with a fairly major plumbing disaster (burst pipe in the bathroom at 4 am the day before I was leaving for Christmas at my mom's... yeah, not fun in the slightest) means that I'm still not done writing Act 3. However, I did promise an update, so I figured I'd at least give you part 1 for now. Expect parts 2 and 3 next week. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Act III, part i<strong>

LOVE

If someone had asked Steve to describe the trip through the wormhole, he wouldn't have had the words. Perhaps he might've managed an impressionist painting to express how one step managed to feel like a single step and simultaneously carry the left-over sensation of having his body torn apart into its component cells and then thrown through space. There was a single, agonizing millisecond of all-encompassing _cold_ that made him gasp and stumble as he exited.

Just ahead, he saw Sam righting himself, his journey through also not having been entirely smooth. If Clint and Natasha had lost their footing, it wasn't obvious as they calmly followed Daniel and his team, who were hurrying on towards a large mushroom-shaped stone dais at the foot of a long set of cracked and overgrown stone stairs.

Steve paused before following them and looked out, eager to get a look at this new world. A whole other planet. Except that it looked a lot like a beach; it was full of smooth, brown sand and a few rocks. Not a single seashell littered the shore, not a single brush of algae floated upon the water.

He looked up, towards the horizon. And gasped.

Really, he didn't know how he hadn't noticed sooner. Just wasn't used to looking up, he guessed. From now on, he was always looking up. When he'd imagined alien planets, he'd imaged odd-coloured plants and odd-looking creatures and maybe an extra moon or sun, but he'd never imagined a sky like this. He would never forget this sky. His fingers already itched and he just knew that no matter where they ended up spending the night, he wouldn't lay down to sleep until he'd sketched the tableau in front of him.

It was daytime, although the sun appeared to be hidden behind streaks of cloud that littered the sky in a myriad of shades from almost-white to dark gray. Two pale moons hung in the gaps between the clouds, round white ghosts in the daylight. And intruding into the rest of the sky... was another planet. It looked terrifyingly close, like it was about to come crashing into them close. He'd seen pictures of Earth from space, but this planet looked nothing like them: there were no bright blue oceans, no indications of any landmasses at all. This planet had streaks of beiges and browns, with white cloud-like streaks whirling amongst them.

The wormhole disengaged with a quiet, mechanical swish and a slight displacement of air. Steve barely registered it as he stared up at the sky. He knew it was impossible, but he felt as though the planet was inching its way closer the more he stared at it.

"I'm really kicking myself now," he heard Sam say from beside him. "Can't believe I didn't think to bring my camera, 'cause that's just..."

"Wow," said Steve. "I don't think there's really a better word than just 'wow'."

"Yeah, wow's good."

"Hey guys, hurry up and get on over here!"

They both looked down to the bottom of the steps, where Colonel Mitchell was motioning them forward. Steve exchanged a glance with Sam and hurried to join them. Clint and Natasha were standing in front of the odd stone dais next to Daniel.

"Daniel, how exactly did you decide to gate here?" Steve heard Vala ask as he approached. "Not that I have any idea where _here_ is, so it wasn't one of our missions."

Daniel shrugged. "This is Oannes, Nem's planet. It was the first address I thought of."

"Woah, Nem?" Mitchell exclaimed. "You mean the fish guy, who kidnapped you and made the rest of the SG1 think you were dead?! And you thought this was a great place to revisit, why exactly?"

"Unless we attack, I'm reasonably sure Nem will leave us alone," said Daniel calmly. "He only took me because I demonstrated a basic knowledge of Mesopotamian and he wanted to find out what happened to his mate."

"Why did he think you would know?" Vala asked.

"Because she had been on Earth fighting against the Goa'uld in Mesopotamia. And he sort of figured if I knew Mesopotamian, I might know the history and therefore her story."

"Oh. And did you?"

"Eventually."

Steve came to stand next to Daniel and blinked in amazement at the dais. Now that he could see it from the front, he realized it had symbols carved into it in a circle surrounding a large glass half-sphere. And then Daniel reached out and pressed down onto one of the symbols and Steve's eyes widened as the symbol depressed and lit up. At the top of the steps, the inner circle of the Stargate began to spin.

"Wow, okay, that's – what are you doing?" Clint asked, his eyes darting from the dais – or, well, controlling device he supposed – and the moving gate.

"Look, I'll explain later," said Daniel. "This gate address is logged in the SGC's computer systems as the last address dialled, which means they can track us here. And I want to be long gone by the time they muster up a team to follow us. Assuming they get the orders to do so."

"Is there a reason they wouldn't?" Natasha asked.

Daniel shrugged. "Because for anyone familiar with gate travel, this is obvious. You can figure out the last dialled address from the DHD crystals, but that takes time and the SGC is still under orders forbidding the use of the Stargate. Jack will know right away that we didn't stay on whatever planet we gated to – especially since it's this one. Official death number two, in case you were wondering."

He pressed down on the half-sphere with his entire hand and a wormhole formed with a side-ways splash of silent water.

"Alright, let's move out," said Mitchell.

"Uh, Daniel?" Clint suddenly asked. Steve stopped at the tone of Clint's voice and turned around to see the archer looking out over the ocean.

"Yes?" Daniel asked.

Clint pointed out into the open sea. "Is that your fishy friend?"

Daniel followed Clint's gaze and smiled slightly. Steve looked as well, almost instantly spotting the dark shape bobbing in the water. From the distance, it was difficult to see any of its features clearly, but he could just barely make out the blue-ish skin and hairless head with what were possibly tentacles growing out like a squiggly beard. When Daniel waved at it, the hand that waved back was definitely webbed.

"Yeah, that's Nem," said Daniel quietly. Then he took a deep breath and turned around, heading back towards the gate.

"So, what happened to his mate?" Steve asked as they walked up the steps.

Daniel's face darkened. "Nothing good."

Steve stumbled again as he stepped through the Stargate, although this time it was due to the blinding wind that swept leaves and rain into his face and pushed him backwards with its force. To his left, he heard Clint shriek in surprise at the sudden onslaught. He was fairly certain none of their uniforms were waterproof enough to withstand this weather.

"Dammit, Jackson, where's that DHD?!" Mitchell yelled somewhere ahead of him.

"I think it's in the middle of that clump of trees!" Daniel yelled back.

"Not helpful! In case you hadn't noticed, we're surrounded by clumps of trees and I can barely see any-ow, shit!"

Steve managed to peer through the deluge of water being poured over them and saw the outline of what was probably Colonel Mitchell hopping on one leg as he leaned against some sort of stone statue (although it was rather tall and straight, so maybe it was a decorative column... it was difficult to tell in the rain) and rubbed his shin. Vala walked up to him.

"You alright?" she asked loudly enough to be heard over the wind.

"Yup, just dandy. Having warm fuzzy feelings towards the MALPs right about now."

She nodded as though in agreement.

"Is everyone clear of the gate?" Daniel yelled.

After they'd all called off one by one that they were clear, the gate began to light up, the sound barely audible over the wind. When the wormhole whooshed into being, the wavy blue light was like a beacon in the storm, beckoning them forward. They gladly answered.

And staggered out on the other side, their waterlogged clothing heavy and clinging to their skin uncomfortably. Their boots squished and squeaked as they stumbled down a set of stone stairs – these much smoother and less weather-worn than those on the beach planet. Smooth tile floor met them at the bottom.

Natasha brushed wet hair out of her eyes and looked around. They were inside a room, probably part of a much bigger complex if the multitude of corridors branching off were any indication. Her eyes darted around, watching for movement and taking note of every corner and hiding place, even as she paused at the bottom of the steps to wring as much water out of her hair as she could. There was no furniture that she could see, no rugs, no paintings, nothing that would indicate anyone had ever been here. What surfaces there were, were covered in a thick layer of dust. The building was at least warm for which she was grateful.

"Uh, sorry everyone," said Daniel after he'd come through. Natasha turned just as the wormhole vanished behind him, wondering how it knew to do that. He grimaced. "I'd forgotten about the wicked monsoon season on that planet. On the plus side, it'll make it that much more difficult for anyone following behind us."

Natasha nodded. Setting up equipment in that storm would not be easy.

"What is this place?" Clint asked, seemingly unbothered by his wet clothes as he leapt onto a ledge and peeked through the ornate grating in the wall.

"An abandoned Goa'uld pleasure palace," said Daniel. He shrugged. "Sorry, these aren't the most exciting planets to visit, but I'm trying to pick ones that wouldn't have attracted the attention of the Ori."

"No, we get that," Sam told him. "Don't exactly want to come across the evil dudes before we're ready for them. Though I would've expected a pleasure palace to look a bit more comfortable and inviting..."

"The Goa'uld wouldn't have left anything valuable behind," Vala scoffed. She was frowning. "This looks like a slightly different design to the ones I've been to. Qetesh enjoyed them enough, although it involved being around the other System Lords, so she didn't generally go often."

Natasha frowned. "Who are the Goa'uld?" she asked. The name didn't sound familiar.

"Parasitic aliens that used to rule over this galaxy by setting themselves up as gods in order to enslave the human populations," Daniel answered. "You'd be amazed at how many Earth gods were actually Goa'uld."

Natasha watched as Daniel went to the stone dais. Once there he paused and bit his lip. "Actually, this is probably a good place for a crash course in gate travel. So you're not stuck in case we ever get divided."

He stood back and waved his arms to encase the dais. "This is a DHD, which is an acronym for Dial Home Device – you can thank Jack O'Neill for that one by the way. It's like the keypad for a phone: enter an address and it'll connect you to the gate you've dialled. Each address has seven chevrons..."

It didn't take him long to go over basic gate operations and he showed them the address to Earth. Then he cursed and dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out several small devices. He threw one to Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell, who caught it and then nodded approvingly before tucking it away into his flack vest. Daniel tucked a second into his own pocket and then looked to them thoughtfully with the third. After a moment he handed it to Steve.

"Here," he said. "I'll let you guys decide who wants to keep this. It's called a GDO. See we installed an iris on the Earth Stargate to prevent any unwanted visitors from coming through. It's basically a metal barrier that covers the event horizon of any in-coming wormhole and prevents anything from materializing on our end of the gate."

"Basically, you go splat... only without the disgusting splatter mark," Mitchell added helpfully.

"Efficient," said Natasha and then nodded towards the device Steve was holding. "I'm assuming this sends a signal ahead to let the base know you're friendly?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, but you have to input a code. I'll give you SG1's code, which may or may not be active after today, but I'd like to think they'd let us come back even if only to arrest us."

"If they choose not to, then we'll at least never know," Clint pointed out. Natasha looked up meet his eyes over the top of the DHD. He shrugged at her. "It's not a bad way to go, all things considered."

She let the corner of her lips quirk slightly in amusement. Yes, there were certainly worse ways to die.

"You'll know before you walk through the gate," said Daniel, as he looked between the two of them uncomfortably. "If the iris is down, the little light here will shine red. Once the iris has opened, a signal is sent through the gate and the light will turn green."

"Green for go, sounds simple enough," Sam commented.

Daniel nodded. "Good. I'm thinking one more pit-stop before we stop for the day and dry off."

"Just so long as you don't hit the winter season on the next stop," said Clint. Off to the left, Natasha saw Steve wincing.

Daniel looked apologetic. "Can't promise anything, sorry. I don't really know anything about the seasons on this next planet."

They stood by and watched as he dialled the next planet. Once the wormhole formed, they squelched their way up the steps and walked through.

Sam felt very proud of himself for not stumbling this time as he exited the gate. Even that weird antsy feeling he'd gotten the first time had gone. He knew that sometime later tonight it would hit him that after spending his entire life on the same planet (as people generally did), he'd suddenly travelled to four different planets within the course of less than an hour. And it would be five by the time they were done. Crazy: it was absolutely insane.

And really, really cool. Cooler than Star Trek.

There might not have been any strange plants and animals on these planets, or little green men in flying saucers, but that purple sky he was looking at sort of made up for it.

"Hey, does this white gravel road lead to anywhere interesting?" Clint asked. "I mean it sure looks like civilization to me."

Daniel paused to look into the distance and Sam studied the look on his face. Wherever they were, the archaeologist clearly had mixed feelings about the place. There was pain in his eyes – grief – but there was also wistfulness and a strange sort of serenity. It was a really beautiful place – out of the corner of his eyes he could see Steve's hand twitching in that way it did when he wanted to forget everything and just drag his sketchbook out and draw what was in front of him. The white gravel road they were standing on led into a forest in the distance and behind them, he could hear the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.

"It leads to a temple," Daniel finally answered. "This planet is a rumour, a legend of the Jaffa warriors; a place where they travelled to find their final resting place. It's where I first met an Ancient named Oma Desala."

"Shit," he heard the air force colonel swear under his breath. "What exactly is this, the Daniel Jackson tour of painful memories? Jesus, this is Kheb isn't it?"

"Kheb?!" Vala gasped, clearly startled. She looked around with wide eyes, before glaring at Daniel and hissing between her teeth: "You never said you'd been to Kheb!"

Daniel blinked and looked at her. "It was before your time. Jack, Sam, Teal'c and I came here to find my- to find Sha're's child."

Vala blinked and frowned. "Your wife had a child? I've heard of you having a child."

"I let Oma take him. I... I couldn't care for him."

"Why?" Vala looked genuinely puzzled, and from everything Sam had observed about Daniel, he didn't seem like the type of man to abandon a child or walk away from the hardship of raising one.

Daniel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "He was a harcesis," he said quietly.

Vala's eyes widened and for a moment, she looked truly stunned. "A harcesis... Apophis and Ammunet had a harcesis. That's..."

"Yeah."

Sam exchanged looks with Steve and the other Avengers. That was the second mention of a wife, but according to all official records, Daniel Jackson had never married. Unless... aw man, he supposed marriage certificates from other planets didn't get registered on Earth, did they? There was a story there, he instinctively knew. And just as instinctively, he knew by the grief in Daniel's eyes it was a tragedy.

Daniel broke the spell of silence that had descended on the group himself with a shake of his head before walking over to the DHD to dial their final destination for the day. He'd spent long hours in his hotel room trying to figure out the best, safest planets to gate to, wracked his brain for the best choices to bunk for the night. Because the their end goal was a planet that was a complete unknown and Daniel wasn't sure that going there directly with a group of people who knew next to nothing about the Milky Way and gate travel was such a great idea. He'd given them a brief explanation on PX8 499, but that barely touched the surface.

Before they moved on, they needed to get their bearings and the rest of his team needed to know the plan. Really, the choice of where to settle down for the night was obvious once he'd thought of it. So he dialled the gate and then ran ahead of the group, making sure to be the first one through.

The other end of the wormhole revealed a forest with a rough dirt path leading away from the gate. The area looked deserted except for chirping, rustling and buzzing of the forest. But Daniel knew better than to be fooled by appearances. He walked forward slowly, taking care not to make any sudden movements. Behind him, he heard the others exit the wormhole one by one. When he reached the centre of the clearing, he made a point of unhooking his zat from his belt and unholstering his handgun. He dropped both to the ground.

"Uh, what's he doing?" he heard someone whisper. He thought it might've been Sam.

Daniel ignored them as he spread his arms wide to show to his invisible observers that he wasn't holding any weapons.

"I'm Daniel," he called out into the trees. "I'm here to see your leader; I'm his friend." He paused. "Te a Zo Chaka ka nay Daniel."

Around him the forest was silent for several agonizing moments. Then several trees rustled and four large, armed unas slid to the ground. Daniel let out the breath he was holding.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, they were comfortably seated at a simple yet sturdy wooden table laden with what looked like a small feast and Clint couldn't help his fidgeting as he waited for Daniel to join them. He was willing to let the archaeologist keep his secrets about the first three planets they'd visited, but this one needed a story pronto.<p>

Clint hadn't known there was anyone in the trees, until they'd dropped out of them. His jaw had followed, because these aliens were big and mean-looking and looked like they would lumber along not sneak. The clothes they were wearing looked like they could've come from the American Wild West right down to the shot guns a few of them carried. He couldn't help but wonder if Daniel had known the guards would be there.

"They're Unas," Cam said quietly to the Avengers as they watched the archaeologist stumble through a conversation with one of the aliens. "Daniel's the most fluent in the language of anyone on base. He's usually the one who handles any negotiations with them."

"But if this is somewhere that you guys negotiate with often, then wouldn't this be one of the first places the SGC will look?" Steve asked.

Cam snorted. "Cap, it'd take them months to get through all the places where Daniel handles negotiations. There are people who won't talk to anyone else _but_ Daniel. The guy's pulled off miracles – point in case here actually. The reason we're here, I think, is because their leader is Daniel's friend first, ally of Earth second."

Their leader was an especially large specimen, who was waiting for them at the edge of the village and smiled widely, exclaiming "Dannel!" loudly before darting forward and enveloping Daniel in a bear-hug. When he finally pulled back it was to grab an amused-looking Daniel by the arm and drag him further into the village.

The reactions they'd received walking through the village were... varied. Interestingly enough, the unas seemed curious and even excited to see them – a lot of them seemed to recognize Daniel, or at least the symbol on his uniform. Many of them were shy, hesitant about their interest; they looked up from the corner of their eyes, hunched in on themselves as though attempting to look smaller, to avoid notice. The humans, however, looked at them with expressions ranging from curiosity to contempt. And anger. Hatred.

Hawkeye gripped his bow tighter and looked to Black Widow, catching her eye. She blinked at him in acknowledgement and then casually inched her way towards Daniel.

First they were taken to a small hut, where they were given some dry clothes and a clothesline where they could hang their wet clothes to dry. Then they got the grand tour of what looked like a new construction in the village, which seemed to include a school and a sports field. Loud shots rang through the air, startling the group. It turned out to be nothing more than a group of young men (all human) doing target practise. Which was just too much for Clint to resist. Notching an arrow from where he stood, he carefully aimed and let his arrow fly. It, of course, hit dead centre.

He spent the next hour gathering a small crowd as he showed off. It didn't escape his notice that the crowd started off as all-human and only gradually began to contain some unas. Not that they hadn't been watching, but it had taken them a while to come closer.

Clint could spend hours on the range and likely would've stayed longer had one of his arrows not been interrupted half-way to the target by a round flat spinning object.

"Aw, come on, no fair Cap," he complained loudly before turning to find Steve surrounded by children and grinning mischievously.

His group had small humans as well as small unas. A dozen or so faces watched in amazement as the shield ricocheted off trees and the wall of a house and then sailed smoothly into Cap's waiting hand. A dozen or so voices cheered.

"Who said anything about fair?" Steve called back.

The sky was beginning to fall to twilight when Daniel's unas friend, Chaka, showed them to a small cottage and presented them with the feast. Then he nudged Daniel out the door again, looking endearingly eager to show him something. Like a pitbull puppy: all happy smiles full of strong, sharp teeth.

"Okay, do you guys realize it's actually only about three in the afternoon?" Sam broke the silence, staring at his watch in amazement. "I thought it felt a bit early for dinner."

"Yeah, gate-lag can be a real bitch," said Cam. "It's like jet-lag on steroids. Can't remember how often we leave a planet in the morning on a bright warm sunny day only to arrive back and realize it's the middle of the night and snowing. And that's not even going into how weird it is to get used to a planet with a different cycle, like thirty-hour days."

"How long are your missions usually?" Sam asked.

Cam shrugged. "Depends on whether we find anything useful. SG1's a first contact team, so our missions are shorter ones, anywhere from one day to a week. Our job is to scope out a planet and assess if there's anything worth sending a long-term team in for. Trust me, some missions are really boring."

"Especially when they're for Daniel," Vala added. "There's never anything to do when you're stuck on a planet while he translates rocks. Come to think of it, the science ones aren't much better."

Just then Cam stood and went to the window, nudging the linen drape to the side and peeking out. After a few moments of observation, he let it go and retook his seat.

"Something the matter?" Steve asked.

Cam sighed. "Not really, but I figured I should warn you about working with Daniel."

Clint felt as Natasha and Steve both froze at that. "Warn us?" Natasha asked carefully. There was a deep undercurrent of 'explain now or else' in her voice.

"Now, don't get me wrong, Daniel's awesome and he's been doing this for longer than just about anyone..." Cam trailed off. Then he shrugged. "But you should know a few things about him. First of all, he really is just as smart as everyone says he is. And he's usually right. Secondly, he's more or less the best diplomat in the galaxy, and his instinct about people are generally excellent. But he's got the self-preservation instincts of an alcoholic lemming."

Clint blinked. "Wow, so not even just a regular lemming, but an alcoholic one."

Cam and Vala both nodded solemnly.

"And he's a trouble-magnet," Cam added.

"Oh, so that museum attack was his fault?" Sam asked after a pause. "You couldn't have told us that before we agreed to follow him through a wormhole."

Vala rolled her eyes. "We didn't exactly invite you along."

The door opened and they fell silent. Daniel walked in, looking happy.

"So, what did Chaka want?" Cam asked him.

"Hm?" Daniel looked up at him and blinked. "Oh, he wanted to introduce me to his wife. At least I think that's what the word 'zoka' roughly translates as."

"He got married? Good for him."

"Yeah, whatever, we can get back to that," Clint dismissed. He really didn't care about some alien's love life. "More to the point what's up with this planet?"

"You noticed it too?" Steve asked. "The children didn't seem as bad, but the adults seemed to have a really hard time mixing."

"Okay so it wasn't just me they were staring at?" said Sam. "'Cause I couldn't help but notice how disgustingly white this entire village is, so I was figuring maybe the planet's super segregated."

"It wasn't just you," Daniel assured him. "Up until a few years ago, this village used to practise slavery. It'll take a while for their society to integrate and see each other as equal."

Clint's first instinct was to demand how Daniel could be friends with a former slaver, but then he paused and thought about what he'd seen in the village. How the humans had been angry to see them – resentful.

"The unas were the slaves, weren't they?" he said carefully.

Daniel nodded. "Chaka led the rebellion and caused the unas to rise up against their slavers. And then he brokered peace with the humans."

"But he wasn't a slave," said Natasha. "He's different than the rest."

The corner of Daniel's mouth quirked. "No, I met Chaka on another planet, then the slavers caught him and Jack and I went after him. Turned out he did more rescuing than we did in the end and then decided to stay here instead of going home in order to lead the rebellion."

"Cool," said Sam with a nod. "I like these unas a bit more now. I mean makes sense it's going to take a while for them to get over it."

"It's going to take a while from both sides. The humans were originally brought here from Earth by the Goa'uld and they were the slaves with the unas as their keepers. Then the humans rebelled and the situation reversed, with the unas being kept as slaves. It'll be rough for a while."

"So, did you help Chaka with his rebellion?" Sam asked.

Daniel shook his head, looking amused. "No, we had to get back to Earth. I did give him the my staff weapon though."

"So, how exactly did you and Chaka meet that you became such good friends?" Steve asked, looking curious.

Cam snickered. "Good question," he said. "It's the type of Daniel Jackson story that legends are made of."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "It is not. I was just in the right place – or wrong place, really – at the right time."

"Uh, yeah, no, anyone else in your place would've been bludgeoned with a rock and eaten," said Cam.

"How do you know all this?" Vala asked, amazed. "You've been with SG1 for as long as I have and I've even known Daniel longer, so why don't I know all these things?"

"'Cause I read through all the old mission reports."

"Oh. Why in the world would you want to do that? Reports are boring. And they don't include the time Daniel and I had sex."

Steve choked on the thick green liquid he was drinking.

"Mostly because that never happened," Daniel retorted automatically.

"Aaanyway," Sam interrupted them. "So, we setting out in the morning?"

Daniel nodded. "Yes. I figured after everything, getting an early night and some time to just talk might be a good idea since we have absolutely no idea what we might find at the gate address we're heading to. I showed you the address for Earth, but that's not going to be of any use to you if you happen to get stuck without a GDO. So I'll give you two other address for allies of ours who have GDOs and can get you to Earth. Unfortunately, the Alpha site's been abandoned, which would've been the best option since they could've easily verified who you are."

"I feel like you're trying to tell us that this whole going boldly where no human has been before is actually really terrifying," said Clint, thinking of the monsoon they'd accidentally walked into.

"Well, for all we know it's an Ori stronghold," said Cam.

"Or it could've become a volcano planet," said Vala.

"Or it froze over at some point," Daniel suggested.

"Awesome," said Clint. "You guys ever think of doing a comedy act? You could be the Doom Trio."

Daniel laughed. "You laugh, but those are all things we've actually encountered."

"Really?" said Vala. "I was actually joking with the volcano planet."

"Well, it wasn't actually SG1 that was involved. I was with SG3 helping to evacuate the population out of the area before the volcano erupted. Then the gate malfunctioned, which was just great. We had all the villagers and their livestock ready and standing in front of the gate while getting covered in volcanic ash and the Stargate refused to connect to earth."

"What did you do with the villagers?" Steve asked.

"We relocated them to a planet with a similar atmosphere and rich soil. There was already a settlement there, but they were happy to take in the refugees. Not only were they bringing with them seeds for a new kind of grain that was more resilient to drought-like conditions, but the settlement was small enough that inter-marriage had become a problem so they were happy for the infusion of new blood."

"That's impressive for a military operation," said Natasha.

"It wasn't easy, trust me," said Daniel dryly. "I can't count the number of arguments I've had over the years with various generals, politicians and bureaucrats to keep the program from becoming exclusively about weapons hunting."

"I tried to help too," said Vala.

Daniel scowled at her. "That wasn't called helping."

"But it was true. That politician only wanted to throw his weight around to make up for the small size of his penis."

Clint burst out laughing.

Daniel groaned and cradled his head in his hands. "I am not having this conversation."

"Did you actually say that?" Clint asked Vala.

She blinked at him. "Of course I did."

"Ah man, you are my kind of crazy."

She grinned and raised her glass to him. In fact all of SG1 were the Avenger's sort of crazy. Daniel's plans of an early night fell through the moment Vala discovered that one of the bottles on the table had paint-stripper levels of alcohol. At one point in time, Steve had gone and gotten his sketchbook from his bag and pauses in conversation were punctuated by the steady sound of his charcoal on paper.


	11. Third Interlude

And as an apology for not sticking to my own timetable, here's bonus interlude for you! Well, technically this one was already pre-planned (and written before I'd started Act 3), so it'll actually be the fourth interlude that'll be the bonus, but whatever. Based on people's comments I think this is a scene many of you are anticipating and it's one of those scenes I've had in mind since the very beginning. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Third Interlude<strong>

Head-throbbing drumbeats and screaming guitars blared through hidden speakers, the music so loud it nearly drowned out the high-pitched grinding squeal of the circular saw. Sparks flew out from from it as it shaved away an edge of gold-coloured metal being held down by large metal arms. Excess metal clattered to the ground and the giant arms lifted the sheet of metal they were holding, turned it, readjusted it, then set it back down and resumed cutting along some pre-programed, invisible line.

Tony Stark ignored the arms and their cutting in favour of concentrating on the small welding torch in his hands and the tiny metallic pieces he was holding in place with tongs. Finally, he leaned back and took his hands away from the joint he was working on, putting the tongs down before shutting off the welding torch. He flipped up the protective visor and leaned in to examine his work up close.

He put down the welding torch. "JARVIS, how's the cutting going?" he asked.

The music's volume lowered from eardrum piercing to merely loud.

"_Is it approximately 73.4 % complete. Estimated time to completion: 12.86 minutes. Sir– " _

"Good, and how are those calculations coming along?"

"_The calculations you requested were completed one hour and seven minutes ago."_

Tony threw his hands up in exasperation. "Then why didn't you tell me?!"

"_I did, sir. Three times."_

Tony blinked. "Oh. You're sure?"

"_Positive, sir. Now, perhaps I could bring your attention to–"_

"–Then what are you waiting for?" He slipped off the protective visor and tossed it haphazardly onto the workstation. "Bring it up on the screen, chop, chop! I want to see how this material stands up now that we've managed to get rid of that fuck-awful blue colour."

A holographic screen popped into existence on Tony's left, just far enough away that he had to turn his wheeled chair around to properly see the display. His face twisted in annoyance as he reached out to grab at the screen – presumably to pull it forward.

Movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He frowned and glanced towards the centre of the lab. And froze. Blinked.

"JARVIS, I hate to state the obvious, but there's a person in my lab. Why is there a person in my lab?" He paused. "No, even better: I have the best security, well, anywhere, so _how_ is there a person in my lab?"

Tony swivelled his chair around to face the unknown person. It was a woman; she had short, blonde hair and wearing a long white labcoat and combat boots. However instead of staring around in awe, or greedily taking in whatever prototypes or scraps of blueprints he happened to have lying around, she was crouched in front of DUM-E, waving her hand slowly in front of the bot and watching with obvious fascination as Tony's bot's head/arm followed the movement.

"DUM-E, you useless bot, you're supposed to evict strangers not beg for treats!" Tony yelled at the bot. "Seriously, it's the community college for you, first thing in the morning."

The woman looked up and grinned at Tony. "His optic sensors are really something!" she said. "They must be light-sensitive instead of just infra-red and motion-active."

Tony blinked at her. "Of course they're light-sensitive. Why wouldn't they be?" His eyes narrowed as she stood and he saw that she was wearing what looked like standard military-issue BDUs under the labcoat. "How did you get in here exactly?"

"_Sir, I feel I should point out–"_

"–Not now, JARVIS. Who are you?"

"Actually before I answer that question, I think maybe you should listen to your AI," said the woman with an impish grin.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Oookay. JARVIS?"

"_As I was trying to tell you, sir, my sensors are not picking up a detectable presence."_

"What? Are they malfunctioning?"

"_No, sir. I have run a full system diagnostic and everything seems to be working at maximum efficiency. Cameras have visual confirmation of the presence, however neither heat nor motion sensors are registering anything."_

Tony blinked. "How is that–" he began, looking at the woman closely for any hidden devices. The blonde met his eyes and smirked just before she stepped forward and walked _right through DUM-E_. Tony felt his mouth go slack as he gaped. There had been no distortion, no blurring, nothing whatsoever to indicate she'd passed through solid matter.

And Tony certainly didn't have any projectors in that part of the floor.

He sat up, eyes scanning every inch of the woman for any signs that she was anything less than a physical presence. "Okay, you have my attention," he said.

She smiled. "Oh good," she said. "I'm Colonel Doctor Samantha Carter."

Tony froze, mind whirling at the name. The answer came to him shortly and he snapped his fingers at his moment of epiphany. "Daniel's friend: the one who works at Area 51!"

He leapt out of his chair and walked up to her, reaching out to run his fingers over the edges of the projection. Only when he was this close could he see a slight fuzziness around the edges, a sort of soft edge that took away from the solidness of the image. He pressed in, amazed at how little his fingers disrupted the image even from up close. The contrast of solid matter to projection made the projection all the more obvious, but it didn't break up around the disruption.

"Where are you projecting this hologram from?" he asked. This didn't look like his work; he'd never bothered with a full range of the colour spectrum for his holograms, hadn't felt the need for it.

He heard her clear her throat and looked up. She raised an eyebrow at him. Tony blinked and then looked down, noticing just where his hand was on the hologram. He quickly pulled his hand away and took a few steps back, shoving his hands into his pockets against further temptation.

"Er, right, sorry," he mumbled.

"We're projecting the image from orbit," Sam Carter finally answered him. "This is something a couple of our scientists have been working on for a while." She shrugged mischievously. "I sort of convinced them to let me hijack it for a little while. Figured it'd be a better way to get your attention than an e-mail."

"Wow, it's like you know me," he said.

She grinned. "Daniel said you were a bit like me."

Tony grinned back. "Oh he did, did he? Well consider my attention gotten, now you didn't just pop by to say 'hi', did you?"

"Daniel said he told you about the Ori."

The grin slid off Tony's face. "Yes, the big bad alien armada heading right for Earth. He said you were in charge of creating some sort of weapon to defend Earth with?"

"Not quite. It's not a weapon I'm building: what I'm trying to do is create a dimensional bubble large enough to encompass the entire planet in order to shift it out of phase and into its own pocket dimension. We'd be still be able to keep an eye on their movements, but they wouldn't be able to see or touch us."

Tony felt the excitement building up in his veins, felt his fingers twitch as he imagined the schematics for such a device.

"And you're having trouble getting it to work?" he asked.

"Oh no, the phase-shifting device works just fine on a smaller scale," she said, much too dismissively for Tony's taste (only he was allowed to be that dismissive when it came to making brilliant creations work). "According to all the scenarios I've run, the calibrations I've made to it should allow it to work on a larger scale, but the problem I'm running into is that–"

"–the power requirements for something like that would be massive," Tony finished as his mind rushed ahead. He snapped his finger and pointed at her. "The arch reactor. You want the arch reactor."

"I need 700 gigawatts of power. Short of re-routing all power from seventy percent of the country..." she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "If I had more time I could probably build something. Maybe. But from what little I know about the arch reactor, I think it should work. I mean, we might need more than one–"

"–One should be fine, we'll just make it bigger," said Tony. He narrowed his eyes at her. "But you know I'm not going to just hand over arch reactor specs to anyone, even if it is to save the world."

"Give me your cell number and I'll text you the GPS co-ordinates."

Tony blinked. "GPS – wait, are you..." He broke out in a grin and rattled off the number. "How exactly did you get permission for this? From what we overheard when Daniel was here, the military doesn't exactly want me on-board with anything."

The colonel looked sheepish for a moment. "Well, I didn't _specifically_ get permission to bring you into the project... but I did get blanket permission to request any and all resources I might need to get this done before the Ori get here."

"So I'm a resource now?" Tony asked, amused.

She shrugged. "Daniel would say that people are one of the best resources."

"Then who are we to argue with Daniel Jackson?"

* * *

><p>"JARVIS, are you sure this is the right place?" Tony asked as he flew over the desert. "I mean, I know according to every single rumour ever Area 51's supposed to be in the middle of nowhere, but I'm pretty sure we passed 'middle of nowhere' ten miles ago."<p>

"_Sir, we are approaching the GPS co-ordinates. Sensors are picking up faint energy readings and radio activity."_

"Show it to me, J."

A screen helpfully popped up on the HUD, displaying the readings. Tony hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed through the numbers. It wouldn't have been enough to catch anyone's attention if they weren't looking for it, but there was definitely something more in that area than just sand and cacti. He wondered what sort of shielding they were using, because the readings he was getting looked like they were for some sort of small bunker, not a large research facility.

He landed on the exact spot with as loud a thud as he could manage without actually crashing to the ground, crouching down and stabilizing himself with one arm. The HUD's motion sensors picked up minute movements at ground-level: cameras, probably. Well, whatever, he'd been invited, so let them get a good look. After a few moments, he raised his faceplate and took in the area with his naked eyes.

There wasn't much to see. Unless you really liked sand.

Needless to say, Tony wasn't particularly surprised when a large box started to rise up out of the desert in front of him. He was slightly impressed with how silently it managed to move despite the no-doubt powerful machinery at work, but that was hardly surprising. When it stopped moving it looked like a tall metal booth with a cap made of dirt and sand (Tony saw plexiglas keeping at least some of the dirt in place, but he couldn't help but wonder how the sand wasn't flying off with the motion). Doors on the front slid open and two armed military guards stepped out.

Tony tensed, but relaxed moments later when Colonel Doctor Sam Carter barrelled past them as though she barely noticed them.

"Doctor Stark," she greeted with a smile. "I'm glad you made it. Sorry for the delay; we had to confirm it really was you."

"That's perfectly understandable," he answered back, wordlessly giving the command to dismantle the suit. The blonde watched with interest as the Iron Man's parts flew away from his body and then reassembled beside him.

"How fast does it go?" she asked.

"I've clocked its maximum speed at about Mach 3.6, but it starts getting a bit shaky in the air after 3.3."

"Really?"

She looked covetously at the suit, her eyes shining with excitement. Tony smirked. Well, looked like the good little astrophysicist had a thing for speed. He had a feeling they were going to get along just fine.

"So, I think you said you had some science to show me?" he said. "And, call me Tony," he said, holding out his hand. "I only make people I don't like call me Doctor Stark."

She smiled as she shook it. "In that case, I'm Sam. And I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Tony laughed.


End file.
